saveyourbreath II: i know what you did last summer
by onelildustbunni
Summary: Life as teenagers, in...what exactly? Julian's still trying to define that, and he thinks summer break will help him decide. Little does he know what X-23's past holds...and her future. Picks up from 'save your breath'. New X-men, Hellion and X-23.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **save your breath II: _i know what you did last summer_

**Characters: **Hellion, X-23, and the New Mutants + Hellions squads

**Universe: **616 pre-M-Day

**Summary:** Life as teenagers, in...what exactly? Julian's still trying to define that, and he thinks summer break will help him decide. Little does he know what X-23's past holds...and her future.

**A/N: **Picks up from_ save your breath._ Thanks to all who gave the first story such great reviews, hope you continue to enjoy it!

* * *

**-1-**

* * *

"I am leaving the school, to go to California, for two and a half months," Laura informed her mentor seriously. She jerked her thumb at Julian. "We are travelling via rail. I will stay with his  
family. He is my squad captain, and the other members are going."

Logan glanced over at Julian, then focused on Laura again.

"Have fun, kid," he said.

The boy's mouth dropped open. He couldn't believed what he'd just witnessed; there'd been no interrogation, no rants about safety, _nothing_ one would expect from a parental-type figure.

Not even a single warning.

"Oh—one thing," Logan spoke up, as Laura walked away. "Keller."

"Huh?" Julian looked at his teacher.

"You break it…you buy it," Logan said, grinning. "Keep that in mind." Suddenly he did not look very pleasant; Julian was reminded that he, like Laura, had a dark past, only it was well publicized.

"Okay, sir," he said, even though he didn't understand what he was getting at.

**…**

The group had a final lunch at Xavier's together, in the cafeteria. Seven people were going; amongst the included were Julian himself, Laura, Santo, Brian, Cessily, Sooraya, and Kevin; an air of general  
excitement circulated through the table.

"Have you ever been to California?" Julian asked her.

"Yes. I have lived in San Francisco, with my aunt and cousin," Laura said, after swallowing her spoonful of fruit salad.

"I live in Beverly Hills," he said, pleased with himself. "It's _nothing _like you've ever seen. Paris Hilton is practically my neighbor."

"DUDE! That sucks!" Santo said loudly. "Did you ever try running over her dog with the lawnmower?"

Julian wrinkled his nose. "I don't cut the grass, the staff does it." He glanced around the group, then at Laura, checking for effect. She had been looking at him, and looked away quickly; he was pleased. He  
put an arm around her waist, glad she'd decided to come. It would be a great time, in a low-stress atmosphere, to figure out exactly what was going on, and where they stood now.

From what he could tell, they were a couple, a very casual one, but one nonetheless. They hung around a lot, and he got her to talk about random things. He became somewhat of a fixture in the room  
she and Cessily shared (sometimes, sleepily, Cessily tried to hang her housecoat on him and completely freaked out when she realized he was alive). He'd taken her to a few movies, something  
she seemed to enjoy.

Laura no longer seemed to find his presence odd, or bothersome; she, too, had begun to relax around him, no longer bristling every time she heard his name. She was more comfortable with contact,  
and he touched her often, pleased.

They'd traded cell phone numbers, and occasionally he texted her, and she responded, something trivial but to him meaningful, indicative of some sort of interest and commitment.

One thing hung between them like a shadow, however—Sofia. Laura mourned her dead friendship, he could see it in her eyes at times—and he, too, felt quite badly over how he'd dealt with the whole  
matter. Sofia had quickly left for a vacation in the Bahamas, with Laurie.

Other than that, life was fairly good.

"This is going to be so awesome," Cessily said, her voice full of excitement. "I've _always_ wanted to _see_ the States!"

The idea had been partially born when Laura had mentioned to him—on one of his afternoons, when he was lying on her bed, playing with his game boy and talking about their summer plans—that flying  
might _not_ be an option.

Although she didn't elaborate on her knowledge, Laura had experience with airport security protocols; and she highly doubted that Julian's friends, made of metal, and rocks—and herself, with blades in  
her limbs—would be able to pass the metal detectors to board the plane.

Julian had been upset at the notion that they should avoid doing what _normal _people did, just because they were mutants; however, Cessily had protested (being present in the room at the time) and  
had shared with them her long-time desire to travel by rail.

Eventually, he'd caved in, and they'd met every day in the cafeteria for a week, planning the trip, with the others he'd invited.

**…**

At the railway station, with Mr. Summers (who had driven them).

"Be careful," the man reminded them, the fussy parent. "No powers in public."

"We know, Mr. Summers," Cessily said cheerfully.

"I was talking to Julian," their headmaster answered dryly. "I know some of you can't conceal your powers. But you can _behave…_and that means not _using_ your powers to show off. The only time it's  
appropriate to use them, in the light mutants are viewed in at the moment, is a life-threatening situation. Something Mr. Keller has yet to learn."

Julian flushed slightly.

"Laura, keep an eye on him," Cyclops added.

"Okay," Laura said, even as her companion made a noise of outraged protest.

"Good. I'll sleep easier." Mr. Summers gave the girl a friendly smile, then shut the trunk of the SUV, their luggage on the pavement beside them. "Everyone's got their tickets?"

"Yep," Julian said.

"Alright."

Laura looked over towards the platform as a whistle sounded.

"You'd better go…don't want to miss it," Mr. Summers said. "Have fun! Call us when you arrive!"

"See you later, Mr. Summers!" Cessily called as they hurried towards the platform, their luggage making grinding noises on the pavement behind them.

**…**

Laura followed her teammates-slash-somewhat friends into the rail car, thinking back to the day in early spring—when she'd first arrived in New York, at the institute—also on  
a train. A lot had changed since then.

She did not know if she would ever truly feel _at ease _amongst her peers, her colleagues. She did not think she would ever truly understand every nuance between them, every  
expression. But, she had begun to realize perhaps that was not necessary. Before she had arrived, she had believed her mission to be _fitting in_; but now, after more than half  
a year with the Xavier children, she found she did not feel as much pressure to be the same as them. She had met others—Sofia and Sooraya, to start—who, like her, had  
different customs, different beliefs, and different reactions to many situations.

Laura supposed that, in a way, she was from another background as well. She might not be from a different country, but it was very similar. Like the others, it would take  
her time—much time—to adjust to the change.

The difference was she could kill everybody, without meaning to, by inhaling a specific scent. That she might be startled into a memory and react from instinct. That she might  
be targeted, by assailants from her past (even though Logan had solemnly promised her that would never happen, ever).

A lot had changed.

"Coming?" Julian asked her, seeing she had paused in the doorway, gazing out the window at the now-moving scenery.

"Yes." Laura resumed, following him towards the cabins they had reserved. It was to be a three-day trip, meaning they would sleep on the train. Cessily paused, up ahead, examining her ticket.

"Here, Laura!" she said, sounding excited. "This is ours!"

"Okay," Laura said. Julian had stopped, blocking the narrow space. "Move."

"Uh," he said, looking at her. "I thought…"

Laura waited, and Cessily watched from over his shoulder.

"Did you want to share my cabin?" he asked after a moment, a little shyly.

Cessily's eyes widened.

"It would be illegal," Laura said matter-of-factly. "My ticket dictates that I am to share a cabin with Cessily."

"Well, we can always _trade_ tickets," Julian said. "The conductor hardly looked at them anyways."

"But—" Cessily stopped, her fingers hooked in the door-handle. "_Fine, _I guess I could room with Sooraya. _Boys!_" She shoved the cabin door aside forcefully and entered, closing it with a bang.

He gestured for Laura to follow, and led her towards a door at the end. He opened it with his mind and hauled his suitcase in.

"_Julian,_" Laura said sternly. "Mr. Summers instructed you not to use your abilities in public."

"No one was looking. Are you coming or not?" He was holding the door open with his hand now. Laura stepped in and he let it close behind her with a _snap!, _then reached over and slid  
her bag off her shoulder. He then began to stuff it in the overhead compartment.

"I can't believe you just brought a _backpack!" _he said after he had finished.

"Is that wrong?" Laura asked, tilting her head.

"No…I've just never seen a girl travel so _light,_" he said. "We'll be there all summer…you sure you have enough clothes in that thing?"

"It is better to have less," Laura said. "I have brought sufficient belongings, all the clothing I own."

"…" Julian stopped. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No." Laura's eyebrows drew together; she'd obviously said something _wrong. _

"I didn't know you were _poor,_" Julian blurted. "Laura…I thought…I mean, Mr. Logan…"

"Logan does not need to provide me with material possessions," Laura said briefly. "And I am not poor. I have one hundred forty seven thousand six hundred and thirty-five dollars."

Julian shifted. "But…you…_huh?_"

"I do not wish to discuss this," Laura said firmly, turning her back. She caught sight of the restroom and approached it; she was surprised to see that the toilet was in the shower.

"Laura—" Julian had followed her to the door. "Why do you have so little then?"

"I do not require more." She peered into the bathtub, fascinated. "I have not seen this before."

"Neither have I," Julian said. He wrinkled his nose. "Kinda dumpy."

Laura paused and turned to look at him, over her shoulder. With an expectant expression, something he had grown used to.

"You know…it's cheap. They're saving money by squishing stuff together, and economizing."

"Do you think I am 'dumpy'?" Laura asked suddenly.

Julian blinked. "What made you think that?"

"You criticized my lack of possessions. Should I have more?" she asked, brushing hair behind her ear.

"It doesn't really matter, I guess," he said, after a moment. "But I think it's a bit weird. Why don't you and Cess go shopping when we get there? She'd _love_ that…and I'm sure  
there'd be a few things you'd want. Like a bikini."

Laura's brow wrinkled. "A bikini?"

"…" Julian shifted, again. "You've never seen one?"

"No."

"It's like, um, underwear, that you can wear in public," he said. "You can get it wet, too, without it going see-through."

"Oh." Laura had a memory—the wetsuit she'd worn, on many missions—and she wondered if it might not be something similar. She made her way out of the restroom again, brushing past  
Julian as she went to the bunk beds, and then sat down on the edge of the bottom one.

"Laura…where _were _you that you don't know all this?" Julian asked after a moment. "I mean…all these real life things. I can't figure out much about you…and…I'd _like _to know, I guess…"

"I do not wish to discuss this," Laura repeated, like she always did.

He hesitated, then moved across the room and sat down beside her. "Okay," he said. "I wish you'd change your mind. If this is about…well, how I was before…"

"No, it is _not_ about 'how you were before'," Laura said, a hint of irritation in her tone. "I simply do not wish to discuss my history."

Silence.

"I _am_ sorry, about it, you know," Julian said, looking at the floor.

Laura observed him.

"You were hostile," she agreed. They hadn't spoken about her earlier months at the institute, aside from the near-drowning experience she'd had in the pool. That had been the defining  
moment, when, seemingly, he'd changed from being 'hostile' to something she couldn't quite define. They'd exchanged intimate gestures, touches, occasional glances, along the lines of  
what 'couples' at the school shared; however, Laura wasn't sure what had happened. He'd openly declared hatred of her; he'd told her they were in a state of combat. And now…this  
was hardly combat. Enemies did not…snuggle.

"I know."

"And now…?" Laura asked, not sure, entirely, of what she meant, but at the same time curious. _What changed? _were the unspoken words.

He cleared his throat. "That's…I wanted to get you alone, for a while. Away from the school…from everyone who's constantly judging us…so we can figure out where we are…and, uh, how we got here."

"We are on a train," Laura said, puzzled at his change of subject. "Mr. Summers drove us to the station. You were present."

"That's not what I meant." He closed his eyes. "I meant about what we _are_ to each other. I don't even know you, Laura. I know next to nothing about you. But I…I'm kind of crazy about you."

"Crazy?" Laura asked.

"Yeah. I think about you a lot. And I like spending time with you. You—you still scare me, sometimes…but less, a lot less than when you punched me."

Laura suddenly felt amused, remembering that she'd given him a superficial wound, a bruise around one of his eyes. She smiled slightly.

"Maybe I was mean to you 'cuz I liked you," he said. "I just didn't know it." He paused. "Seeing you naked helped," he said jokingly.

"Yes," Laura said seriously. This made sense. She _had_ noted—his scent had changed, somewhere during their interactions. Probably after he'd seen her in the locker room, through the hole in  
the wall, and his energies had shifted from hate to attraction.

"I can't believe you weren't mad about that," Julian said honestly.

"Why should I be?" Laura asked, blinking, as if the idea had never occurred to her.

"Um," Julian said. "You had every right to kick my ass. It's kind of...well, people don't just walk around naked, right? It's not acceptable in society. And to look at you, without you knowing…"

"Many people have seen me without clothes," Laura said, matter-of-factly.

Julian's brow wrinkled. "What—did they—_who?_"

Laura tilted her head, thinking. "My mother. Dr. Zander Rice. Kimura. Dr. Adam Harkins. Isabella Rodriguez. Justin Brinkley. James McDermott. And many others, whose names I was never informed."

"That's…did they do stuff to you?" Julian pressed.

Laura's lips set in a firm line. "I do not wish to discuss this, Julian."

"Okay," he said, beginning to form an idea of what may have occurred in her past. He reached out hesitantly and touched her shoulder. "I think…I think you're really brave, trying to live a normal life, after  
whatever you went through," he said.

Laura considered this. "Thank you," she said, thinking it would be appropriate.

They sat for a while longer, Julian making conversation about everything from what they would do in California to people he was planning to see again. Laura noted that his stomach was  
beginning to make growling noises, then a few minutes later he suggested they find food, and she agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Oooh reviews! IN answer to some reviews from the first story...no, not redoing Kingmaker at all. This is totally original (well beyond the concept of them taking a Hellions summer vacation), and  
deals with some great stuff. I don't want to spoil it so you will have to wait! I finished writing it this morning. Had sooo much fun.

And, Laura's painting will make another appearance, but not in this story...the events of this story are large enough that I decided to write a third story to deal with the after-effects, so to speak.

Also...yes definitely they are an adorable couple. I imagine this is what they would be like if they were actually written together in the comics.

Thanks for comments as always, makes me feel all warm inside!

* * *

**  
-2-**

**

* * *

  
**

Julian opened his eyes, dimly aware of sounds of movement. He finally focused, in the darkness, at the bathroom door, which was closed. He could dimly see it from the light of the train  
window. He could hear a person moving inside. Brian? No, he was—on the train. Then he remembered, it was Laura. They were sharing a cabin, that was right.

He rolled over and closed his eyes again, unconcerned. He'd been having a nice dream…something about the squad…and topless women, as usual…and now he could get back to  
it. He wasn't sure why he'd woken.

_Ah-heh, _from the bathroom. A very quiet, choked sob. It snapped him awake, and he sat up in bed, listening. _It doesn't concern me, _he thought, tempted to sleep, but he knew that  
wasn't true. If it had been one of the other girls, he might have pretended not to hear…but her emotions were so _rare,_ it wasn't nothing.

He got up, made his way across the room, and slid the bathroom door aside rapidly, half asleep so he didn't care about things like awkwardness over what he might see.

"Laura?" he mumbled into the darkness.

The girl jerked upright, sitting on the closed toilet, her arm still in her lap, covered in pools of thick, vicious blood. She'd heard him approaching but hadn't thought he would open  
the door. When she'd realized he _would, _it was too late.

"Don't—" she started to say, but his hand, batting at the side of the bathroom wall, found the light switch, and blinded them both as it illuminated her situation.

Julian stared at her, at the blood rolling down her skin, onto her stomach, her thigh, down her ankle into the bathtub. Her nightwear—a long t-shirt—sat crumpled in the corner.

Her cheeks had wet trails.

"What are you _doing?_" he asked finally, still staring.

"I do not wish to discuss this," Laura said firmly.

"Like hell," he said, shifting, and folding his arms. "You're sitting in the bathroom…naked…in the dark…and you're cutting yourself up."

Laura paused, and looked away, her hair covering her face. "Yes."

"…why?" Julian asked.

"I do not—"

"I think you have to tell me this, Laura," he said firmly.

"I do not have to tell you _anything,_" Laura said angrily, standing up in the bathtub. Her foot slipped slightly on the blood; she faltered and grabbed the railing, looking annoyed.

"I think you do," he repeated. "If you don't tell me…you're going to hurt yourself, permanently…I'm tired, so I'm really not saying the right thing…but…"

"I do not require your help," Laura said, her face hard. She still would not meet his eyes.

Julian unfolded his arms, blinked, then decided he was too tired to fight. "Fine," he said, turning away.

Laura watched him go, and noted that although startled at the sight of her actions, he did not seem surprised.

He had seen her before, then. As she had suspected.

Was what he felt for her pity?

**…**

Breakfast. Everyone looked excited, happy. Cessily made none-stop conversation; glances were made out the window constantly at the moving landscape. Julian half-heartedly participated in  
the interaction, noting that Laura was poking her food around her plate, and gazing out the window for long intervals, decidedly not enjoying herself.

"So, you guys are sharing a cabin?" Santo grunted, seeing her gaze out the window for the zillionth time, as he counted. "Whatsa matter, Keller not satisfying your needs?"

Laura pushed her plate away, wiggled out of the seat (she'd been on the end of the booth), and took off, her boots making heavy thumping noises on the floor of the train.

Julian looked at his plate. "Thanks, Santo. I mean, _thanks._"

"Don't mention it," Santo said.

"Aren't you going to go after her?" Cessily asked.

"Apparently she doesn't need my help," Julian said, picking up his fork again and loading it with hash browns. "So…you guys are all down for Disneyland, right?"

**…**

After breakfast, Julian headed for the observation deck, accompanied by a few of the others. He caught sight of Laura, leaning on her elbows, watching the scenery fly past, and turned  
his back to her, continuing his conversation with Brian, as if he hadn't seen her at all.

Cessily noted this, then pushed her way past him and headed over to the girl.

"Laura! Why're you all on your lonesome?" she asked.

"I am not lonely," Laura said without looking.

Cessily propped up her elbows on the railing as well. "Sure you are. _Everyone's _lonely…sometimes we just don't know it."

Laura considered this. "Yes."

"What's going on between you guys?" Cessily asked, in a lower voice. "You were all happy yesterday…now you two are both being Debby Downers…did you fight?"

Laura was silent.

"I know he can be a prick sometimes," Cessily said, "but he's a good guy, Laura, really. I don't know _why_ he's annoying. Wait—maybe I do. I think it has to do with how he's treated at  
home. From what I know, he got ignored a lot by his family…so he likes to be the center of attention. He thinks he's got to be _the best_ to do that. But he's got a good heart. When it comes  
down to it…I've seen how much he cares for his friends. He'd never let _anything_ happen to one of us."

Laura was silent still.

"You should talk to him," Cessily added.

"Cess! Come look at _this!_" Julian yelled. "Quick!"

"Gotta go," Cessily said, grinning and snaking along the platform.

Laura listened as the kids made exclamations of wonder over the beautiful countryside. The train was rushing through mountains, and Laura looked up at the peaks, wishing she could be as  
serene as they were, inside. She did not realize that the man she had been cloned from—Logan—had done this many times, attempting to find an inner peace that did not exist.

**…**

Sitting in a large booth, by the window, watching scenery—fields of hay—rush past.

"Dude…I'm bored," Santo whined.

"That's got to be a record," Julian said. "Least we made it through the first morning of a three day trip before you complained."

"I speak my mind," the bigger boy grunted.

"We could play games," Cessily suggested. "Road-trip games."

"Pretty hard, when there's no cars around!" Santo snapped.

"Not _all _games involve cars," Cessily said. "How about 'I Spy'?"

"Count me out," Julian said. "I don't play kindergarten games."

"Coz you _suck_ at them," Santo grinned.

"Dude…fine. I spy with my little eye something _big, dumb _and_ ugly,_" Julian hissed.

Cessily rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't aware that there was a _mirror _in here," Santo shot back.

"Guys! _Behave _yourselves and play for real!" Cessily said.

"Fine, fine. I spy…something white."

This was quickly observed to be a napkin poking out of Cessily's purse.

The game drudged on, with various people taking turns; then it was discovered that Laura made it somewhat interesting, with descriptions of items that were almost impossible  
to find. They eventually moved on to other games, riddles, and after supper, they headed to Santo's and Brian's room to play poker with a deck of cards one of the boys had  
brought. Cessily, Sooraya, Jay and Kevin had opted out, choosing instead to watch the scenery.

As they headed towards his friend's room, Julian stopped Laura, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You know how to play poker?" he asked, speaking to her directly for the  
first time since last night.

"Yes," Laura said. "I can play Strip, Stud, Blackjack, Omaha, 7-card stud, Texas Hold'em, 5 card Mulligan, 10 High Holdem, Jacks or Better, Deuces Wild, Carribean Stud,  
Let it Ride, Three Card, Poker Pursuit, Pai Go—"

Julian held up his hand. "Where the _hell_—"

"I do not wish to discuss this."

"God, _fine._ You're on my team," he said. "We split everything, got it?"

Laura paused. "Okay," she said.

He knocked on Santo's door when they reached it; his hand still on Laura's shoulder. When it opened, he peered into the room and pulled her with him.

"She know how to play?" Santo asked, indicating Laura.

She opened her mouth to respond, but Julian beat her to it. "Nope. I'm going to show her, so she's on my team."

"Fair enough," Brian said from the floor. "We playing for money?"

"Why would we play if we weren't?" Santo countered.

**…**

"Dude…" Santo glared at Julian, who was sitting with an annoyed expression beside Laura, watching as she pulled another pile of chips towards her. "That is _not_ a newbie!"

"You've never played before, have you, Laura?" Julian asked.

Laura knew what he was doing. Hustling. "No," she said.

"She's just lucky, then," Julian said, leaning his elbow on his raised knee.

"She won three rounds!" Santo said. "You're totally cheating!"

"Yeah, well, she cleaned _me_ out, too," Julian said, annoyed. "You cheating, Laura?"

"No," she said.

Santo judged the interaction, then accepted it with a scowl. "I _hate_ it when noobs beat me. I used to deal in my uncle's casino. God damn you."

A few rounds later (Laura purposefully losing two, placing small bets), and they left, heading for bed, forty dollars (partially in coins) richer.

"That was _awesome!_" Julian said, once they were back in their cabin. "We have to go to Vegas and pull that for real. We'd make _tons_ of money."

"Yes," Laura said, tucking twenty dollars into the coat of her jacket, her share. "I thought you had money."

Julian paused. "More's always good," he said, his tone declaring that he did not wish to discuss this further. "Come here." Laura pushed her jacket back into the overhead  
compartment, then complied, getting into the small bed. It was quite cramped, not designed to hold two people, but by unspoken agreement they'd both taken the lower  
bunk on their first night.

He stroked her elbow slowly and grinned at her. "I'm sorry about…earlier. I guess you'll tell me when you're ready. _If _you're ready, I mean. You just…you make me  
curious, Laura, really curious."

Laura found herself smiling back at him slightly. He reached up to her top, between her breasts, and began to undo the lace that held its sides together, still amazed that she let him.

**…**

The next day was better. Laura did not wake in the middle of the night, and there was no repetition of the bathroom scene. The afternoon was spent in their cabin, playing with Julian's  
portable gameboy (he let Laura try it several times). They then progressed to reading (both had brought books), Laura curled against his side, her head on his shoulder and her novel  
on his chest. He eventually noticed that her eyes were fixed on _his_ book, and found himself distracted by her intent expression. "_Pride and Prejudice _not doing it for you?" he asked, amused.

Laura blinked. "Doing what for me?"

"Holding your interest."

"Oh." Laura considered this. "No."

"Figures." He turned his attention back to the book; several times Laura stopped him from flipping the page, or would reach out to flip it before he was ready; however, he found he wasn't  
really annoyed. He eventually became sleepy and Laura took the book from him when his eyes slid shut.

**…**

"Wow! I can't believe we're _here!_" Cessily exclaimed as they dragged their suitcases through the station (all except for Laura, with her tiny backpack that made Julian feel vaguely stupid when  
he compared it to his fairly large two-piece luggage set). Everyone was smiling, now that they were done with the more wearing part of the journey.

"You haven't seen nothing yet," Julian said confidently. "Kay, guys, eyes peeled for a big black 'Benz."

After a few minutes of peering, Laura tapped him on the shoulder. "Julian…there are no luxury sedans in the parking lot," she said.

"They _always_ send a car for me, when I've been away," Julian said. "It's got to be here. No way would they…" he stiffened and stopped talking.

He'd been about to say something, something he didn't want to admit, Laura observed silently. "I have extensive training in recognizing such vehicles, and my eyesight is—" she began to say aloud.

"What's the license plate number?" Cessily asked, speaking over what she'd been about to say. That her eyesight was flawless, that there was no way she would not have noticed it.

Ten minutes later, Julian finally stopped. "Fine. Hold it, I'm going to call a cab. They must've not gotten my message."

His friends exchanged glances; Cessily frowned. Laura couldn't see why he was making such a commotion over this, but she supposed she would find out. This seemed to run deeper than  
merely wanting the transportation, some sort of gesture. Something that ran along the lines of the phone conversation with his father (that she'd accidentally overheard, in the beginning),  
and something about what he'd told her, and something about how he acted.

_He feels ignored, _Laura thought suddenly, remembering Cessily's words to her, and beginning to understand what she had meant. She wasn't sure how she knew this; she hadn't met his  
family, nor did she understand _what_ a family was, exactly; yet it made some sort of sense to her.

"Yeah, hi," Julian said into his cell phone, looking away, his shoulders carefully squared. "I need a cab, for eight people and a bunch of luggage…"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Julian's mother makes a brief appearance, but his family does not star in this plot much. And...thanks for reviews guys! XD

* * *

**-3-**

Julian was in better spirits as they approached his parents' property. His friends were pressed against the window, admiring the signs of wealth along the street; it was, indeed,  
quite apparent. Laura examined the iron gates ahead—with the houses' number on a brick wall encircling the property—and was reminded, again, of transactions. Of being bought,  
and sold, and being the _item _used to generate wealth of this nature.

She wondered, idly, if Dr. Rice had had a house like this. She remembered Martin's house, a grand, rolling mansion. She remembered the little boy she hadn't killed. She'd dashed the  
head off his spider-man toy instead, told him to be quiet, led him away as the flames consumed the bodies of his parents—dead at her hands, because Rice was determined to _own_ her.

He probably did have a house like this.

Whose was it now?

The gates swung open, after Julian finished speaking into the box (leaning out from the passenger seat's window to do so), and the cab rolled in smoothly.

Laura tilted her head and took in Julian's house, not really seeing it. She was miles away, drawing threads of flame out of the fireplace with skilled hands.

Making it look like an accident.

"You coming?" Julian asked, leaning into the open door.

She started, realizing she'd lapsed into a trance-like state, reliving what she'd done…as if she were still doing it. She flushed, nodded, extracted herself from the vehicle and landed  
on the gravel with a _crunch!_

"Something wrong?" he asked, still standing by the car as she walked towards the house.

Laura paused, _her_ shoulders now stiff.

"I do not wish to discuss this," she said, without looking.

Julian shrugged, closed the door, then went around to pay the cab driver.

**…**

"Dude! This place is _awesome!_" Santo said as they entered the foyer of his house, an enormous room with marble floors and fixtures even more elaborate than those of the school. Laura's first  
thought, first analysis, was that—whereas the school was stately, elegant, somehow reassuring and familiar—this room had been designed for face value, to impress.

"It's better than awesome," Julian said. "It's my place, and we can do whatever the hell we want."

"No, it is your parents' house," Laura said. She glanced at Julian and realized that he had been watching her, hoping for a reaction; she saw the expression fade slightly at her comment.

Had she said something wrong?

"Yeah, well, still," he said. "It's going to be _mine_ someday."

"Outstanding," Brian said.

"Now you just hafta wait for them to kick the bucket, huh?" Santo asked.

"I guess," Julian said. He obviously hadn't thought of it _that_ way; for a moment he looked taken back. Then he brightened again. "Speaking of my parents…let's find them and get everyone introduced."

**…**

"Mom!" Julian called, waving as they headed out the porch door. A pale woman with medium-length black hair lay on a sun chair, large sunglasses covering half of her face. She was  
dressed in a stylish sunbathing suit.

Laura watched as he sped up, leaving the group behind and conferring with his mother. She gestured to him; he moved forwards and hugged her, answering her questions about his trip.

Mrs. Keller had an accent; Laura listened for a few moments, trying to place it, as Julian pointed to each of his friends in turn. Then he gestured to her. "Laura! Come here! Mom, this is Laura Kinney…"

The woman pulled her sunglasses down her long nose slightly and examined her with cold, icy-blue eyes. Sharp. "Nice to meet you, Laura," Mrs. Keller said, pronouncing _meet_ as _met_ and rolling  
her R's, ever so slightly. She was definitely not American. Suddenly Laura remembered where she'd heard such voices before—unbidden she remembered surfacing from the clear water, raising  
her eyewear in much the same fashion as this woman, as a small water vessel behind her exploded in orange clouds of the napalm it had been carrying on board. A weapon smuggler, in Greece.

"You are Greek," Laura observed. "Macedonian."

Mrs. Keller paused. "You've been?"

"Yes." Laura did not add what she had been doing there.

"I didn't know you traveled," Julian said, trying not to be left out.

"Yes," Laura said.

Mrs. Keller studied her for a moment. Laura felt strained; she was aware of a sense that she was being examined, that, for some reason, this woman had been _expecting _  
something from her, or of her. She wasn't sure why.

"Well, dear, you might as well show your friends where they will stay," Mrs. Keller said. "Use the guest wing. Oh, by the way, your father and I will be leaving at seven o' clock for our summer  
holiday in the Bahamas. We have an evening flight. So ghastly, using public airlines…I wish your father would allow us the use of his jet. I don't understand why he's so sticky about it."

"Wha—" Julian looked surprised. "You're not staying?"

"Goodness, no," Mrs. Keller said, with an amused chuckle. Like a hen clucking. "We've been waiting for this opportunity for _ages_. Your father has only managed to extract himself from  
his work now. Imagine, we even missed our Christmas trip to Australia. I was _not_ pleased."

"Oh," Julian said. "I just thought—I mean, I haven't see you for a year now—"

"Darling! We'll see you at Christmas. I don't see why you're making such a fuss. James will be here, too."

Julian stiffened, slightly. "Oh," he said again. He turned back to his friends, who were watching with forced neutral expressions. They could see that something was going on, but no one quite knew what to say.

"C'mon guys…let's set you up. Mind sharing rooms?"

**…**

Laura sat on the large, king-sized feather bed in the room she was pretending to share with Cessily and Sooraya. Inside the room too was luxurious furniture and decorations; thick rugs adorned the floor.

Julian had pulled her aside at the door. "Don't unpack," he'd murmured. "They're leaving soon…and, well." He grinned at her, and somehow she did not like it. The look in his eye said revenge. She supposed  
that the same boy/girl rules applied here as at Xavier's; possibly more so, and that he was looking for something to rebel against; why not use her?

"I do not mind sharing a room," she'd responded.

"Yeah. With me," he'd countered. "I liked what we had going on the train. And back at the school. You're the…" he paused. "You're pretty good at what you do. Trust me, I have a lot of experience."

"I will not participate," Laura had said as she shouldered her back pack.

"In what?"

"Your…revenge. I will not violate your parents' trust. I will share a room with Cessily and Sooraya. It is for the best."

Julian had looked surprised; perhaps he hadn't expected her to see what was going on, even a part of it. Laura usually didn't pick up on things like that—not because she was  
stupid—but because she seemed to have a different logic she applied to situations. Her strengths were the tactical and logical, not the emotional.

"It's only revenge if they know about it," Julian had pointed out. "They'll be gone, for almost the entire summer. It'll be between you and me, and, well, our friends, I guess. _They _won't tell though."

Laura had paused a moment, considering.

"Okay." She had tilted her head and smiled at him slightly. "Your facts are erroneous. Our copulation was your first."

"Wha—it was not!"

"I can smell that you are lying," Laura had reminded him.

Silence. "Could you tell?" He'd asked, after a while in which his face had flushed slightly.

"Yes. You were inexperienced. Your extremities shook upon tactile contact, and you were unable to unfasten my undergarments. You were uncertain of the angle—"

"Fine, jeez," he had said, looking embarrassed. "Well, see? I need practice, right?"

Laura's smile had grown, but she had turned and entered the room, where Sooraya was unpacking, her Niqab still pulled up tightly under her eyes.

They had shifted to focus on her, and they were full of disapproval.

She had said nothing.

Now she spoke.

"You are unwholesome," she said, straightening and looking at Laura, her face taut now. Stern.

Laura wasn't sure what to say.

"I do not speak my opinion. It is not my place. But you...Julian is my friend, and I care for him. I do not want to see him get hurt by one such as you."

"Such as me?" Laura asked.

Sooraya's eyes narrowed. "A western woman," she said after a moment. Even in her criticism, she was slightly hesitant, polite, vague—but the meaning was clear.

_Whore. _

"I will not hurt Julian. He is my friend, as well," Laura said. She realized it was true—he now _was_ her friend, despite how he'd treated her before.

"You do not reciprocate his feelings," Sooraya said. "You cannot. Jay has told me. Jay has told me what David knows."

Laura froze.

"What has he told you?" she asked, keeping her voice level.

"Everything," Sooraya said, her dark eyes judging. "May Allah have mercy on your soul, Laura Kinney. You are…no, you are not a western woman. You are a _monster._ You are of _Shaitan._"

Laura was silent. She knew Sooraya meant the Islamic version of the devil; she'd killed in Pakistan, and learned some of the language. That wasn't what disturbed her, what trickled down her spine like ice.

It was the word 'monster'.

_Of course I don't have to tell you about monsters. _

_Your life is defined by monsters. _

Her mother's words, clear in her mind, faded on the blood-stained paper—her mother's blood, shed under her claws.

Laura forced herself to speak.

"Please—do not tell Julian what you know," she said, her voice strained.

"Why?" Sooraya asked coldly. "It is not fair to hide such matters from him. I would not be a good friend if I did not care for his well being."

"Please," Laura repeated.

Sooraya watched her carefully. "Do not harm him. If you truly do care…leave him alone."

The door opened loudly, and Cessily pranced in.

"OHMIGOD! You'll never BELIEVE what—" she stopped, her hand still on the doorknob as she surveyed the two girls. "Something wrong?"

"No." Sooraya returned to her unpacking.

Laura sat on the bed, trying to coax warmth back into her limbs.

**…**

_Tap, tap. _

"_Laura?" _ Julian's voice, in a whisper, through the closed door. It was twelve A.M; his mother had left to meet his father at the airport, and after a dinner of pizza and a night  
spent playing with his expensive entertainment center, everyone had retired to bed, worn by their day of traveling.

She ignored him, rolling over to face the window.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Just got X-force #20...and I paused after I realized I was like "YES" when Kimura mentioned Laura's "telekinetic boyfriend". Okay, wow, that is not a good thing that Kimura was bringing him up...I should not be happy  
about this...it means he's a big target...but a little part of me was like "finally, validation".

Ahahaha yes I am weird o.O  
**  
**

* * *

**-4-**

* * *

"This is _AWESOME!_" Santo said, helping himself to another slice. "Pizza for breakfast! Why don't we have this _every _day?!"

"Because it'd be too expensive?" Cessily pointed out.

"He's a billionaire, Cess," Santo said, pointing at Julian with a rocky finger smeared with cheese. "He can _afford_ it! By the way, did I tell you lately that you're my best friend, dude?"

Julian rolled his eyes. He was chewing with a rather lack-luster expression, his hair rumpled from his pillow, yet he looked tired—as if he had not slept, or not well.

"Liar. Your best friend is your hand, Santo. It's your main squeeze," he replied.

"EWWWWWWW!" Cessily squealed, dropping her slice on the floor. "JULIAN! That is _so gross!_ Take it back!"

Julian leaned over the counter and looked at the dropped food. "Pick it up," he said.

"Don't you have a butler?" Brian asked.

"They let him off for the summer," Julian said, sounding tired.

Eyes shifted to him.

"So we're _alone_ here?" Cessily asked.

"Kinda," Julian admitted.

"Isn't that illegal?" Santo.

"Kinda," Julian replied again.

Silence.

"Damn," Santo said. "This just keeps gettin' _better!_"

"I agree," Brian said, giving Julian an encouraging smile; his friend, however, ignored it, looking down at his pizza.

Laura did not make comment, mechanically chewing her food and wishing that she had not come at all. She had made a mistake; lying awake in bed all night, she had realized  
that she had been erroneous in trying to make believe that she, too, could 'fit in' with these children. The girl had reminded her of her roots, her heritage: she was a weapon,  
and she must never allow herself to forget this.

She had decided she would leave early; as soon as she could manage to slip away. She did not want to be confronted, and have to answer questions. The less they knew, the better.

Her eyes shifted slightly and she caught the boy looking away quickly, his gaze having settled on her momentarily. It was—hurt? He did not understand why she was pushing him  
away, why she must sever this—bond—forming between them—amputate it like a festering limb. Something she had done before.

**…**

"LAURA! Come on!" Cessily said, grabbing Laura's upper arm. She'd returned to the bedroom to try and take her belongings, but the metallic girl had followed her.

"We're going swimming!"

"I do not wish to swim," Laura said.

"You _have_ to! It's gonna be totally awesome! Where's your bikini?!"

"I do not have one," Laura said, seeing her opportunity.

Cessily paused. "NEW PLAN! We're going _shopping, _yay!"

Twenty minutes later, Laura examined the hangers in the changing room, each displaying three triangles of fabric, with strings. The outfits offered very little protection, and seemed  
to be geared towards attracting the interest of males. Clientele. Laura knew, from her days of prostitution, what outfits like these were intended for.

The curtain was pushed aside by an impatient Cessily.

"_OHMIGOD! _You're not trying them on!" she exclaimed. "HURRY UP!"

"Cessily…I do not want to—"

"Please!" Cessily said. "We're going to have a _great_ time, you'll see."

Laura looked at the hangers silently, then at Cessily's hopeful face, and breathed out slowly, then reached for a garment.

They left the store ten minutes later with a bag containing Laura's new swimsuit—a dark green bikini—flip flops with ridiculous elevated heels, sunglasses, and a beach towel. Cessily had  
also insisted she purchase sunscreen, despite her healing factor.

"That's like the best part!" Cessily had hissed, slamming the item down on the counter. "You get to ask him to put it on your back!"

Laura failed to see why this idea was so exciting, but again she faltered under the blunt impact of Cessily's enthusiasm, which gave her the same sensation as being hit with  
a cannonball (something that had happened to her twice).

**…**

"Look," Santo grunted from his ground between Julian and Brian (who sat in beach chairs that had been too flimsy to support the boy made of rocks). "Girls are back. "

"That's got to be a record," Julian commented. "They were gone like, what, an hour? I thought they'd be back _tomorrow._"

"Hah!" Brian said.

Kevin and Jay, a few chairs over, smiled slightly. Neither had spoken much during the journey. Most of their interactions had been with one particular person; Cessily (for Kevin) and Sooraya (for Jay).

"Sooraya!" Cessily exclaimed as they reached the beach chairs, and she saw her friend, seated beside Jay, still wearing her dark, heavy outfit. "How _can_ you stand that thing? It's a million degrees out here!"

"It is not a _million _degrees. It is twenty-nine point four zero degrees Celsius," Laura said. "Which, converted, is roughly eighty-four point nine two degrees Fahrenheit."

Attention shifted briefly to her, and she wished she had not spoken.

Julian eyed her coldly through his sunglasses, wondering what she was playing at. She'd blown him of so thoroughly the night previous, now she was wearing a skimpy swimsuit and dark lenses,  
and was practically flaunting herself in front of the other boys.

Maybe he'd misjudged her.

"Whatever," Cessily said. "I can't believe you could wear that and not be dying."

"It is actually quite comfortable," Sooraya said. "I am used to heat."

"I do not find the heat uncomfortable, either," Laura said. She didn't add that she had lived in an incubator for the first thirteen years of her life.

Sooraya did not look at her.

"Why are you losers sitting around when there's a _pool_ right here?" Cessily demanded.

"Didn't feel like swimming," Julian said, wrinkling his nose so his sunglasses moved up and down. "Go ahead if you want."

He sat and watched the girls (all the while pretending not to), noting subconsciously that Laura's hair looked even better when it was wet, especially when she broke the surface  
of the water and it was plastered against her body.

He felt like he was watching her through a hole in the wall again.

Perfect. Not only was his family unreliable, abandoning him for the billionth time, but now his girlfriend had decided to follow the same course of action. People like this annoyed  
him immensely, crawled under his skin.

Julian got up. "Anyone want a drink?" he asked, his voice bitter.

**…**

Lying on the lawn, on the beach towels, because Cessily had insisted they attempt to get tans. Even though Laura had patiently explained this was _impossible, _as Cessily was made  
of metal; Sooraya already possessed dark skin (and would not disrobe); and her healing factor regenerated 'tanned', or 'burnt' skin almost immediately, shedding any cells that would  
comprise the tan.

She'd given up after a while of explaining, noting that Cessily was eying the boys, still in their chairs, across the pool. More particularly, Kevin. Even though he did not seem to be  
looking her way with his dull, uninterested eyes.

Laura flopped down on her back and closed her own eyes. She wanted to leave, but she'd tried it already and Cessily had squealed in protest that she did not want to be the only  
one in a bikini. A ridiculous argument, but the girl had drawn attention to the fact that Laura did not want to be here, and, still not willing to explain further, Laura had simply complied.

Tonight. She would leave, tonight.

Cessily got up to use the restroom, and padded across the lawn; Laura let her eyes slide shut as she relaxed, feeling better with her resolution in mind. Now she could allow herself to  
enjoy the sun a little. Its warmth tingled pleasantly on her skin, stimulating her healing factor.

Footsteps, lighter than Cessily's pure metal feet. She opened her eyes as they approached her; it was Julian. He stopped, beside her, and looked down with a frown, still wearing his  
sunglasses. He was holding a drink, an unopened Pepsi.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Hello." Laura examined him momentarily, then closed her eyes again.

The grass beside her bent with a scuffle; he had sat down, dangling the can over his knee. "Why?" he asked.

"Why, what?" Laura parroted.

"You know what I mean. I want a straight answer…I'm tired of being run around by people." His voice was a murmur; he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"No, I do not," Laura said. Even though she thought she might.

"You didn't open the door last night."

Laura paused. "I was asleep."

"Oh." Julian paused. "Tonight?"

Her eyebrows drew together. "Julian—"

"Don't lie, then. Why? Were you just stringing me along or something? To get back at me for before?" He sounded agitated. Angry.

"Get back at you?" Laura opened her eyes again and found his; he was looking down at her, his features contorted ever-so-slightly, his face turned away from his friends. He _was_ angry.

"Don't play dumb."

Laura knew this term. She'd been trained to use it. "_Do not play dumb," _she'd say, her claws to the man's throat. "_I can kill you where you stand. You know this. Tell me the information, now. On the  
count of three…one, two, thr—_

"I am not."

Julian wrinkled his nose again. "You're doing this to hurt me. Can't you see I've already got enough people doing that?"

His parents, she thought. He meant his parents.

"I'm never good enough for _anyone_," he mumbled. "I just wish someone would tell me why, so I could figure some shit out, you know? I think it's unfair."

Laura reached out and touched his ankle lightly.

"I do not wish to hurt you," she said, which was true.

He looked down at her.

"Don't play games, then. Do what you _say _you're going to do. If you think this is going anywhere, come talk to me. Tonight."

"I—" Laura 's eyebrows drew together. "You do not understand."

"No, I guess I don't," he said. He got up and headed back to his seat by the pool, leaving Laura to think.


	5. Chapter 5

**-5-**

* * *

Eleven PM; twenty-three hundred hours, and Laura had one boot out the window, her backpack on her shoulder, when she heard the footsteps  
approaching. Not Cessily's—not Sooraya's—_Julian's_—he was following up on their discussion by the pool.

Laura hesitated for a moment, then leaned forwards and jumped, despite the fact that she was on the second story. She did not want to damage his  
house, on top of everything. She landed in a crouch, her bag jostling her in the side.

"LAURA!"

She looked up; Julian was leaning out the window, making a fist. She made a surprised noise as she was yanked upwards, from somewhere behind  
her belly button, to meet his angry, glowing eyes.

"So _this_ is how it is, huh?" he demanded.

"Put me down," Laura said.

"Not until you explain why the _hell_ you're jumping out of windows to avoid me. What the—Laura?" He'd just spotted her bag, and his expression was full of…what? Shock?

"Where are you _going? _Why?!"

"I cannot stay. Put me down, please."

Julian watched her for a moment, then let her drop—no, _slammed_ her into the ground—on her behind. Laura's head snapped back and she gasped for air, realizing she had  
sunk almost a foot into the turf, her backpack bouncing on impact. She looked up; he was gone.

She took a deep breath, realigning her ribs, then eased herself to her feet (unlocking the dislocated joints), picked up her backpack, and began to walk towards the gates.

Walking. She would walk, for a while, inhale the air and try to clear her mind, wrestle the confusing, conflicting thoughts inside it.

**…**

At an all-night café, on a street corner, a steaming mug in front of her. Her backpack at her feet. A decal on her table, which had fallen off her boot. The drop had been quite  
violent, more violent than she'd initially realized.

This was as far as she had gotten.

Flipping her lip in and out slightly, Laura realized her eyes were steaming, like the mug. Full of hot liquid. They were tears; she knew, very well, what tears were. She cried  
every time she smelled trigger scent, every time she woke up and someone she valued was dead.

She had _not_ liked the last interaction with the boy. She understood he despised her, that he was angry at her. She hadn't thought it would matter; her past was her past,  
and it was her own, never to be shared. She'd thought that maybe—maybe it could be behind her now, now that she was beginning to have an existence at the school as  
Laura Kinney, her mother's daughter.

But she found her past followed her everywhere she went, like a dark shadow, and it constantly moved as such—mirroring situations in the present—haunting her. And now  
others knew. Or rather, they knew half of it, which was even worse.

Yet here she was, two hours later, unable to stay, unwilling to leave.

Why was she staying?

She straightened suddenly. Sooraya was right. She was putting those she valued in danger, by not informing them of the circumstances surrounding her. Like Megan and Debbie.  
They had nearly paid the price of being oblivious. No, she couldn't allow that to happen again. And it would, it would happen again because the facility still existed.

Telling. Laura didn't know _how_ to begin, where to begin, on the task of sharing with Julian this vital information. She rarely spoke as it was; to tell her own story would be…almost impossible.

Laura watched the mug, wishing it could tell her the answers. She could simply share with him the pertinent information; no further explanation would be required than hard facts.

And yet…some part of her, wordlessly, felt it was inadequate. She…_they_ had shared something. She had been aware of this; consciously aware, and now it was gone, inexplicably, without closure.

She wished her mother was here, that she was here to explain this, like she always did. With the experience of humanity.

"_Kimura…was hurt, badly, as a little girl, Laura. Like you. She never grew up…she doesn't understand that hurting another little girl will not change her past, that she can't pass it on that way." _

"_His father was killed, Laura. Rice thinks that since you are a clone of the man responsible, that it is acceptable to take out his anger on you." _

"_You didn't kill the boys at the press day, Laura. No, no…_I _am responsible. Never you._ _Don't even think about it, that you were even there, because you weren't._ _Do you understand? I will  
tell you why one day, when you are old enough." _

_Tell you why. _

The letter. Laura stiffened, slightly. Her mothers' letter, in her hand writing, putting neatly to pen the words that clumped in her throat like glue. The feelings that she didn't know  
how to describe, all explained by someone who _did_ know.

Laura reached under the table, took her bag. She threw a ten-dollar bill onto the table and ran down the street she had come.

**…**

It was two hundred hours when she arrived at the enormous property again, and the lights were out in all of the rooms. Laura hesitated—reminded herself that no one had armed the  
alarm system the night prior—then tried the back door; it was open. Remnants of their dinner—take out Chinese—sat on the counter. She wrinkled her nose, poked at a container. She'd  
only had it once, with Megan; she found some of the vegetables quite disgusting for consumption, which was rare, as Laura did not view much as 'disgusting'.

She moved out of the kitchen, looked up the dark staircase. Various snores, heartbeats; everyone was sleeping. She crept up silently, her heart thumping in her chest. She felt  
quite…alert. She'd had this feeling before, playing hooky with Megan and taking the Principle's car for a joyride. And on missions.

At the top she paused, sniffed the air, then headed down the corridor with the most recent scent. The door she needed to open was on the end of the hall; again Laura stopped, feeling  
she was opening more than the literal wooden door before her. She'd never compared an emotion to an object, before. It was…different. She tilted her head, then reached up and  
knocked gently on the wood.

Nothing; the breathing did not falter. She tried again; still nothing. Impatient, suddenly fueled by the idea that she _must_ do this, Laura released a claw and swiped it through the lock.

The door opened slowly, and now she could see him, curled up on his side, a peaceful expression on his face. She crept forward, wondering how to wake him.

"Julian," she whispered.

He slept on.

"Julian!"

Undisturbed. She decided to poke his shoulder.

The first attempt yielded nothing; neither did the second. At the third poke, he batted her hand away, his forehead wrinkling in his sleep as he mumbled something incoherent.

Laura made an impatient noise, then took hold of his shoulder and shook him roughly. "JULIAN!"

"AGGH—" he gasped and rolled over to his back, pale. "Whatsit—what—_Laura?_"

She put her backpack down at the end of his bed and unzipped it. He watched, now sitting up slightly (and looking a bit frightened, perhaps). Reaching in, she found the bundle of paper and  
pulled it out carefully, then presented it to him, her eyes twinkling in the dark.

"…" Julian rubbed his eye. "I don't…look…I think we're done, okay? We were _done_ when I…uh…dropped you out a window…but now we're _really_ done. This is creeping me out. It's…" he looked  
at the glow-in-the-dark clock. "Two thirty. Do you know how _weird_ you are?"

Laura was silent, still holding the packet out to him.

"Are you on drugs or something?" he added.

"No. Take it."

"Is _this_ drugs?"

Laura made an impatient noise; he reached out and took the packet uncertainly.

After examining it for a few moments (blinking sleep out of his eyes), he realized it was a handwritten letter, several pages long, and fairly ruffled, as if the papers had been read and handled many times.

"Laura…" he put the papers down. "You woke me up to read a letter? After _that?_"

"It is important," Laura said. She hesitated, then sat down at the foot of the bed, watching him expectantly.

"I don't care."

Laura caught a motion in his forearm; she seized his wrist just as he raised it, about to rip the letter in two. "No. It is irreplaceable."

"…" Julian glared at her. "You think pretty highly of yourself, don't you?"

"I did not write it," Laura said. She paused. "This is my mother's letter."

Julian looked at her again, but his expression had changed drastically; it was sharper. "What do you mean?"

"Read it," Laura said again.

Julian finally looked back at the paper, then reached out absentmindedly and turned on the small lamp on his night table. Laura twitched, full of nervous energy, still uncertain that  
she was doing the right thing. Perhaps she should have called Logan first.

_You can always say 'no', kid. Your story is your own. Make one up if you want, it's your call._

He was reading, now, his eyes taking in the words that only three people had ever read, one of whom was now dead. Laura continued to watch him, taking in his expression, which  
was…impossible for her to decipher. At one point—_I told myself that this was science, not life.__I was creating a weapon, not a child—_he stopped, his eyes freezing on the words.

_Weapon._ There it was, in black and white, no longer just the constant thrum in her body, the shadow. It was a real, tangible thing.

He read on, in silence, slower (she noted) than when he had read other material, novels, homework. His eyes lingered on some words. He'd passed the surgery—the poisoning—and  
now he was at the worst part.

_When it was time for your first field test, the target was chosen with the flip of a coin. Who it was didn't matter. As long as the target was high profile and couldn't be gotten to. Sutter needed  
to make a statement, and you delivered it to the world. I wanted to understand why we were doing this. I told Martin I needed to understand why you had to publicly kill an innocent man,  
his family, and so many others. So he told me. He said, it's simple. You can't sell anything…without advertising. _

_That's what this was all about. The buying and selling of lives, for profit. Not saving the world, or taking it over. No, this was about money, a lot of it. Martin sold you for a million dollars a pound,  
and as you know by now, there were no shortage of buyers. Rice was right. I didn't matter. Not to them, not to you, not to anyone. All I could do was watch, watch while you were forced to  
kill…and kill…and kill. You killed royalty. Godfathers. Drug lords. Dictators. Assassins. _

_Anyone…everyone…for a price._

Julian stopped here, again, his face pale, and for a moment Laura thought he wouldn't finish the letter; he would leave it there, assume that was what she was, and she wouldn't be able  
to explain it like her mother had.

However, his eyes began to move again, and Laura found herself unconsciously leaning forwards, waiting for him to finish, now that he'd read the worst of it.

Waiting for…what, exactly? She wasn't sure what she desired from him in terms of reaction.

Finally Julian reached the end, and his eyes seemed to slide to a stop on her mother's name, and linger.

"Was Kinney her name?" he asked.

"Yes." Laura hesitated. "She was…my creator. My designer."

The word hung in the air. Julian folded the letter, then passed it back to her.

"Just, uh, _how_ many people have you…uh…"

"One hundred and thirty nine," Laura said in a toneless voice.

Silence, for a long time. And Laura smelled it—fear.

"Can we talk in the morning?" he asked finally.

"About?"

"…" Julian blinked. "Well, I don't know…the fact that you're a _mass murderer?_"

"I am not." Laura said firmly. "Dr. Kinney has taken responsibility for actions I was forced to commit."

"I don't understand how you could be _forced_ to kill someone," Julian said, his eyes cold. "I'd rather die myself."

"And yet my self-mutilation puzzles you," Laura said. In a tone that implied he was stupid.

Silence.

"Why did you tell me this?" Julian asked, confused. And afraid. For the first time—since the time in the dojo, when her fist had crashed into his eye with what seemed like the force of an asteroid  
hitting a planet—he was seeing Laura for what she _really_ was, under her soft pink and white layers.

Dangerous.

"It is your right to know," Laura said, her eyes fixed on him. Eyes that had calmly watched men bleed to death, drown, melt in napalm, die under her claws.

"My right?" he parroted.

"Yes." Laura paused. "You are in danger, having known me. I was…reminded, recently, of the risk."

"Risk of what?" Julian asked.

Laura closed her eyes. "I will never be one of you, a child at Xavier's. I cannot. I am not ...I do not understand things that come naturally to you. You are at risk, around me—from my responses, my  
vulnerability to…stimulus, or even association with me. The facility may choose, at any time, to recover me."

Julian blinked. "But…it's shut down, isn't it?"

"No." Laura shifted the letter between her fingers. "I will never believe that. Kimura…Kimura, my handler, is indestructible. She will return. She always does."

Julian sat up slightly. "What do you mean, 'vulnerability'?"

"There is a trigger scent," Laura said, her voice small. "If I smell it, everyone dies."

Pause.

Julian snorted. "Yeah, right. As if."

Laura drew back, not having expected him to leer at her in a way reminiscent of his old attitude towards her. But no matter. She had accomplished what she had come  
here for; now she could leave it behind.

"I am leaving now. There is a chance that they will not be aware of our connection. If they come…you must take the others away." She stood up, paused. "I returned to  
inform you of that. Goodbye, Julian."

Julian watched her pick up her bag and move in swift, decisive strides across the room. She was closing the door when he spoke up. "Wait! Laura?"

The door paused in its movement.

"Look…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "You just woke me up and dropped a bomb on my lap, basically. I'm really not that great at thinking when I'm  
tired. So…why don't you stay?"

Laura paused. He could see the outline of her face around the door. "It is too unsafe. It is not worth the risk to your life."

"What's life without risk?" he countered.

Laura was not familiar with this term, so she remained silent, undecided.

Footsteps, and the door opened inwards slightly as Julian pulled it from his side.

"Laura…if you just wanted me to know I was in danger…I don't think you would have showed me all that," he added softly.

"No," Laura agreed, looking down, her expression strained. "But—I do not want you to die…"

"I'm not a weakling," Julian said, offended. "I'm really powerful. Like, one of the most powerful mutants in the _world, _you know." He paused, wondering if he should have said  
that—even _he_ recognized it as a bit egotistical—gave a mental shrug, then continued. "I live in danger every day, being what I am. I'm not unused to being a target."

Laura smiled slightly at his reaction. If he only knew.

"C'mon." He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "We can talk about all this tomorrow, okay?"

Laura looked down. "It isn't—"

"Yes, it is," he said more firmly. "We're safe here. Stay."

"Julian, it is not—"

"_**Stay**_." Firmly, stubbornly, his features set in a willful look.

"Okay," Laura said, despite herself. She didn't believe she should stay, but again she failed to disobey a direct order.

They stood in silence for a moment, then Julian reached out and took her backpack, indicating with body language that she was to stay with him specifically. She followed  
him into his room again, shutting the door behind herself with a soft _click!_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Another chapter, yay! Let's just say I've been busy ;-)

* * *

**  
-6-**

* * *

Slowly, Julian opened his eyes and looked in confusion at the long, black hair resting on his shoulder. He watched it for a few moments, trying to understand why his hair had grown so much in his  
sleep; finally he remembered Laura's visit, and turning his eyes down slightly, he realized the hair was attached to _her. _

She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, unlike himself. His dreams had been strange and violent in some parts. He wondered now if reading the letter had caused them, or contributed to them.

The letter. He'd never thought things like that could exist outside movies. He'd heard about mutant experimentation labs, but what he'd heard was vague, and he'd come to consider them as mere  
tall tales. Radiation poisoning? Torture? Being force to kill over a hundred people? He wondered if there was more. Probably. _Your life is defined by monsters_. _Don't forgive any of us for what we did.  
Ever. _Excerpts from the letter, bits and pieces, seemed to stand out. No, the letter was real, written by a woman who had realized what she'd slowly done, and been horrified.

It didn't make her less of a monster.

It was hard to imagine, however—hard to connect—that the letter was about _Laura_. Looking down at her, sleeping, she seemed so innocent looking. Hovering between a child and a woman, without  
scars to show her past. The scarring was inside her, he realized. Now it made sense. Laura was like a battle veteran; a survivor of a POW camp. She had post traumatic stress disorder. Or worse.

He realized there wasn't a word yet invented for what she had.

He also realized this was beyond him, beyond anything he'd ever had to deal with. When he was honest with himself, he could admit that his life had been easy, involving, perhaps, the mild trauma  
of being a persecuted minority (mild because he could easily hide his differences, and had the privilege to do so) and the occasional stress of school. And fear of being ignored by others, of being  
rejected. But he'd never dealt with trauma on this scale.

Could he? Would it just be easier to let Laura go, to return to his life at the school? He could ignore her if she stayed; he could even encourage her to go.

He could use what he knew now to twist her arm.

He could go back to Sofia, use the divide between them as a chance to win her over completely. Change his behavior. If he'd managed to stay quiet in art class, could he possibly maintain that?

Laura's eyes suddenly snapped open, and she looked straight at him. She smiled slightly, perhaps still half-dreaming.

He reached up, stroked her hair and found himself returning her infectious smile.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi." She closed her eyes again and leaned into his palm, like a kitten, and he shoved the matter aside. It could wait.

…

After showering and dressing, they headed downstairs, Julian making small talk about breakfast, feeling he had to fill the silence, because whenever it was silent, he started thinking about the letter.

"I want pancakes," he announced as they entered the kitchen, which was still empty as it was early in the morning.

Laura was silent. She stood by the island uncertainly.

"Sit down," he said. "Do you know how to make pancakes?"

"No," Laura said.

He moved to the cupboards and began to open them, his eyes searching for something. He finally spotted it on the top shelf and brought it down with a thought. It was a bag of flour, something Laura  
had seen in Debbie and Megan's kitchen. Usually her aunt and niece had had toast; however one morning Megan had expressed a desire for pancakes, and they had been created. Laura had not paid  
much attention to the process, but she now wished she had.

"Guess we're out of mix," Julian said. "Can't be that hard to make them, though. Just flour…and...some water …awesome."

He then began to search the cupboards for a frying pan. Remembering her Aunt's, Laura slid off the bench, crept to the stove, and opened the bottom drawer to reveal an assortment of  
frequently used cookery.

"Oh. Neat," Julian said.

A few minutes later, a large bowl was filled with flour, and Julian began to add water.

"Have you done this before?" Laura asked. The scent for the batter was wrong. It was missing something.

"Of course," Julian said self assuredly. He began to open drawers, then rolled his eyes and looked at the bowl.

_SPLAT! _

Laura blinked in surprise and wiped pancake batter off her eyelashes. She had not expected him to suddenly agitate the contents with his telekinesis; from his expression, he had misjudged the  
intensity of energy required for the mixing process. It had gone everywhere. He looked up at the ceiling, which was dripping batter as well.

"I am fairly certain that is not how you make pancakes," Laura said, raising an eyebrow. "In addition to your failure to achieve a homogeneous mixture, I believe the preparation is missing ingredients."

"You do it then, Martha Stewart," Julian snapped, embarrassed.

"I do not know how."

"Well, girls are _always_ better cooks than guys. Try it." He thrust the bowl at her, and Laura blinked, accepted it, and tried to use chemistry knowledge to figure out what might be required.

Laura set the bowl down and opened the fridge, examining the contents and trying to remember exactly what she had tasted and smelled in her aunt's pancakes. _Eggs. Milk. Margarine. _She pulled  
those ingredients out and set them on the counter, closing the fridge door. She hesitated, then reached up to the cupboard above and looked up at a bag of sugar.

"Oh, duh. Of course," Julian said. He saw that she couldn't reach and gave the package a gentle nudge; it plopped down into Laura's waiting hand.

"Thank you." She placed it on the counter, along with the other ingredients, then began to add them in, approximating the ratios. She paused when she reached the sugar. How much had Debbie added?

"Put lots," Julian suggested.

Laura poured a large quantity of the bag in and looked at him for approval.

"Uh—yeah, that should do it," he said.

As the pancakes were being fried on the pan, Laura suddenly realized she had not thought about her predicament at all on this morning. She'd only concerned herself with responding to  
Julian's comments, and her memories of her aunt and cousin. She had an unusual but agreeable feeling, and found herself smiling slightly as she watched the pancake bubble slowly in the pan.

"Here, I'll flip it," Julian said, getting off the barstool he'd been sitting on to move over to her and the pan. He stared at it in concentration, and a moment later, the disc neatly turned over in  
the pan, revealing a golden brown side.

"Looks good enough to eat," he commented. He transferred his gaze to her and grinned. "Food looks great too."

Laura raised her eyebrow. "I was not aware you practiced cannibalistic tendencies," she said in a serious tone. "I will inform the professors that you may be hazardous to the safety of the students."

"No, that wasn't—" Julian began, his eyes wide, but she smiled slightly at him, and he stopped, surprised. "Hey—did you just—"

"Mooooooooooooornin'," Cessily said loudly, shuffling into the kitchen and concealing a yawn with her hand. She halted and eyed the pair, who were standing quite close; she also noted Laura's  
smile with approval. Then she spotted the pancake batter, and an eager expression overtook her features.

**…**

"These are _awesome_, Laura!" Cessily said later, as the students all gathered around the island, cramming their mouths full of pancakes.

Santo froze. "_X_ cooked these?"

"Mmm-hmm," Julian said, his mouth too full to comment. At the moment, he vaguely resembled a chipmunk. Every minute or so, he stole a glance at Laura, thinking. He'd read the letter…he'd seen the truth  
in her eyes…but he couldn't believe her; it was just too big a truth to accept, that she was a weapon—not a girl as he'd come to believe. So far he had concentrated on smaller things, ignoring the bigger  
problem at hand.

A problem, that not only involved concerns of safety, but of values, of principles and beliefs that it was _wrong_ to kill, no matter the circumstances.

"…tourist stuff?" Cessily was asking him. He made a sound, swallowed his food, then spoke. "Huh?"

"I said…why don't we go do some tourist stuff?" Cessily repeated, looking annoyed. "Like, you were talking about Disneyland before, and I got all psyched up at the idea." Her eyes had slid past him to  
settle on Kevin, who was poking his fork at his pancakes with a lackluster expression.

Julian noticed this, and suddenly it seemed like a very good idea. Not only would Cessily be happy—not only might Kevin be distracted—but _he_ would be distracted. He could focus on just having fun,  
and delay the Laura problem a little more. He needed time.

"Yeah, alright," he said, floating another pancake over to his plate.

**…**

"Finally we get to why we came here—to have _fun,_" Julian said, watching Laura from his seat on the bed as she pulled things out of her backpack for a shower. Her expression was drawn again; she  
was thinking, too, of unpleasant things.

"I'll take you guys to town….we can stop at Matt's…and then we can head for Disneyland." He paused. "I have some friends here that I want you guys to meet."

Laura was silent as she selected her underwear, not even looking up.

He rubbed his hair idly. "Have you ever been to a theme park?" he asked.

"No," she replied, pulling out a t-shirt.

"It'll be tons of fun," he said, resting his arm on his knee. "There'll be rides…lots of roller coasters, bumper cars…good foods…lots of games to play. Oh, yeah, and the haunted house is _awesome._"

Laura collected the items she'd laid on the bed and headed towards the bathroom. She set them down and reached for the hem of her shirt; then she heard Julian move in the room behind her, his  
footsteps following. When she turned around he was at the door, pushing it open.

"I wish to be alone," Laura said, stopping her movement.

Julian hesitated.

"I don't want you to be alone," he said finally.

Laura looked down. "You said we would have a discussion regarding our…circumstances…today. You have failed to initiate it."

"It's still today," Julian pointed out. He sighed, seeing that Laura looked serious.

"Look…it's all a bit much for me. I thought we could just go on…like we were doing, before this—whatever it is—happened. Everything was…awesome, and I'd like it to continue."

"Julian—" Laura's fingers let go of her shirt hem. It was important that she would explain this. "I cannot endanger you. You are my friends. _They_ are my friends. If I go, you may be safe. You do not  
understand the threat of those who made me."

"They didn't make you," Julian said, annoyed. "Your mother did. Stop making it sound like you're a robot. Whatever the hell they did, you still started from an egg, right?"

Laura paused. "Yes, but—"

"Then you're a human, just like me. Err, a mutant. But you're not a robot. I don't even think you're a clone."

"No. I am a designer weapon."

"I didn't notice any triggers or buttons. You look just like a normal girl to me. A pretty one, though." He grinned at her. "Lighten up. Whatever they try…we'll be more than enough to take them  
down. They'd have to come through me—and my friends—and then the X-men."

Laura looked down. "It is not them I am afraid of. I am afraid _I_ will kill you."

Julian stopped for a moment, then seemed to discard whatever he'd been thinking. "Well, don't. I trust you to not kill me."

"You don't understand!" Laura's voice rose again, breaking slightly. "The trigger scent! When I smell it…everything goes away, and when I wake up, everyone is dead. I do _not_ have a  
choice. They made it for targets I could not be trusted to kill. And Kimura…"

"Wait a minute. You mentioned that name last night. Who the hell is _she?_"

Laura took a breath. "She punishes me when I disobey. She is my handler."

Julian folded his arms.

"I have never defeated her," Laura said. "She was made to be invulnerable to my claws…to everything I've tried. She cannot be killed, because her skin is impervious. And _she_ has the trigger  
scent…Julian, if she finds me…with you…she will use it. She is..." Laura had run out of words.

"She's hardly the toughest person on the planet, Laura. Like you said, she was made just for you. Doesn't mean she'll have anything on _us_."

Laura looked disbelieving.

"I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise," Julian said. "And I won't let _you_ hurt anyone either. Laura—the heads told me not to blab about it—but one time they had me hold back Mr. Logan when  
he went berserk—and I did it, _no_ problem." Julian paused to let it sink in. "He couldn't break free. I can do the same with you." He said this in his usual self-assured voice, deciding it would be  
better not to tell her that Logan had still managed to throw a sword while in his grasp.

Laura looked skeptical. "You would not react in time."

"All it takes is for me to _think_ about it," Julian said smugly. "I'm sure I could hold you down. I think pretty damn fast when I need to." He unfolded his arms. "It'll be okay, I swear…just forget  
all this, and have fun, okay? I mean—what even brought this up in the first place?"

Laura remained silent.

"Who 'reminded' you of the 'risk'?" Julian prodded. He saw a slight reaction in her face. Laura looked away.

"Tell me," Julian ordered.

"Sooraya," Laura said softly.

"…what?" He looked surprised. "You mean—"

"She approached me, and told me that I was…not behaving correctly…by associating myself with you. That I am a…monster…and that I should not be in your company…that I should leave you alone."

"_Sooraya_ said this?" Julian asked, after a stunned silence on his part.

"…yes," Laura said.

"How does she even _know _about your past? I'm confused."

"She said that David had told Jay, who then told her."

"Grr…trust _Alleyne _to be behind this," Julian said, sounding frustrated. "Okay, look…I'm surprised you'd pay any attention to an insult like that…but I guess if you don't know any better…you're not  
a monster, Laura. You'd have to _like_ what you did to be one." He paused.

"You don't like it, do you?"

Laura paused. "No. I…I did not have a choice. Rather, I did not _know_ I could choose."

"Okay," Julian said, thinking her answer was strange, but that she'd put something into an important perspective for him. She hadn't _liked _what she'd done. That made a lot of difference. How much,  
he wasn't sure; she'd still…killed...dozens, maybe hundreds of people…and he'd never even met a murderer of _one_ before this. He cleared his throat. "That makes all the difference. You're not a  
monster, okay?" Reassuring both of them.

"Okay," Laura said doubtfully.

"Anyway, it's not like _she's_ miss goodie two-shoes. Did she tell you that _she_ killed a bunch of men when her powers manifested?"

"No," Laura said.

"Exactly. So I wouldn't say she's the one to be lecturing you about killing." Julian paused for a moment, thinking of how wrong that sounded. But he'd kind of moved beyond his league here.

He'd found out about Laura's good side before her bad one, and now he found himself trying to justify her…flaws.

It all seemed very far away from the pleasant, soft light of his bathroom.

"And _she_ had a choice," he continued. "I learned that all from Ms. Frost, by the way, so it's from a _valid_ source." Julian looked smug for a moment, as he always did when he mentioned  
his connection to the Headmistress. "But anyways…don't worry anymore, okay? I wish you would have just _told_ me right away. Not only am I your…boyfriend…but I'm the team leader."

Laura noticed that he seemed to be waiting for her reaction to something he'd said, and guessed it was the word he'd faltered before saying. She wasn't quite sure what he meant, but it had  
the word 'friend' in it, and she had heard the other girls telling stories about their 'boyfriends', so she could guess that it related to their interpersonal relationship.

He was waiting for her answer. She could smell that he had increased sweat production, and heard that his bodily functions had sped up slightly. In other words, he was nervous.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Okay," Julian said after a few moments, although she wasn't sure what he was referring to. He rubbed the back of his neck, pushed the door open a bit more, then slipped into the  
bathroom and closed it behind him, his eyes on her.

"Shower?" he asked hopefully.

Laura considered his request for a moment, then decided that, for the moment, she would allow him to believe her concerns had been assuaged. Perhaps she would remain, at least until they  
returned to the mansion and she could seek Logan's council. Or obtain a moment alone at a payphone.

"Okay," she said, taking off her shirt.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **thanks for reviews! I know, shower scenes and these two, eh? Go together like peanut butter and jelly. And yes, I thought the pancake scene was a neat way to pull in some of Laura's previous memories with Debbie  
and Megan, in addition to getting her more involved with 'being human'. And I agree...the writers lately treat Julian like he's got nothing going, but they forget that out of all the squads, his was the most unit-like, with the  
least arguing between its members...mostly because everyone agreed with his leading style within the unit. Outside of it is a different story, although the trouble he caused could also be looked at as a mild strategy of generating  
competition to encourage his team to do their best. What works better than rivalry? Well, there is stuff that works better than rivalry, but that works pretty damn well!

* * *

**  
-7-**

* * *

"SHOPPING!" Cessily said loudly, excited, her metal fingers pressed against the tinted windows of the cab. She was viewing the colorful street of Melrose Avenue, Los Angeles much like a cat might view a mouse.

The boys traded amused glances, Sooraya looked apprehensive, and Laura…she was gazing out the window with a distant expression, Julian noted with vague disappointment. He'd hoped that their discussion  
would ease her discomfort; that it would relieve the shadow that had suddenly fallen over them for no particular reason.

Although he didn't think she was being the usual 'drama queen' or 'emo', he thought that she might be over exaggerating her situation. Everyone had _problems. _It didn't mean she couldn't have a normal life, now that  
she was free of them. It would take time, and she could have that, but…

"We HAVE to!" Cessily demanded.

A few minutes later, everyone was out of the cab, and standing in a circle as Julian tipped the cab driver with the money his parents had left him. He then turned back to his friends.

"I am sure as hell not watching you shop, Cess," he said.

"Sooraya wants to!" Cessily protested. "And Laura. Right?"

Laura was silent, still looking as if she was elsewhere.

"Look…I have a friend I want to look up. He lives, like, three blocks from here. Why don't we meet up in like an hour or—"

"That's not enough time!" Cessily snapped.

"Okay. How about you call me when you're done?" Julian said.

"Sure. Let's _go!_" Cessily grabbed Sooraya's wrist; the other girl's eyes widened, and she shot a desperate look at Julian. "Laura, c'mon!" the metal girl added.

"I will go with Julian," Laura said quietly.

"Laura, you can—" he began, but she looked down, frowning. He realized that it probably had to do with their earlier conversation. Now she would want to be near him constantly, in  
case that Kimura woman showed up.

He sighed, reached out and rubbed her lower back. "Okay. Guess I want you to meet them, anyway. Let's go."

After several blocks of walking (up streets full of perfectly landscaped properties), they reached a beige house, constructed with modern style—slanted roof with skylight panels and a large  
satellite dish—and Julian led his three friends up the driveway, telling them all a bit about the boy he was calling on.

He rung the doorbell. "He'll be _really_ happy to see me," he said. "We were best friends. At least, I was _his_ best friend. I had a lot of…"

The door opened, answered by an overweight, middle-aged woman with curly blond hair (Laura smelled dye).

"_You,_" she said, her voice laden with contempt. "Get that—_abomination_—off my lawn!"

Laura looked around. She appeared to be referring to Santo, who was indeed standing on the green grass.

"Sorry, Mrs. Falkland," Julian said, wincing. "Santo, can you—"

"No! I want you _gone!_ You don't bring filthy vermin like that here!" the woman snapped. "And—I heard _you're_ one, too!"

Julian looked taken back. "But—I just came to see Matt—"

"I won't let you anywhere near my son! Now _leave_ or I'll call the police, understand?"

"But—"

The woman reached out and rummaged through something behind the door. Withdrawing it, she revealed a revolver. Laura squinted. Rimfire, with .22 bullets when loaded. She'd been  
shot by this model before.

"_Leave_." The woman's hand curled on the trigger.

Julian paled. "Uh—guys—let's—"

The door slammed behind them as they headed back down the street, Julian's shoulders slumped and his expression hard, yet somehow Laura understood, at this moment, he was  
feeling more vulnerable than he'd felt in a long time.

**…**

"Dude, don't take it out on yourself," Santo said finally.

They were sitting outside a small pizzeria at a round table, waiting for their order to arrive. Julian had been unusually silent since the incident, and it had been up to Brian and Santo to make  
conversation (mostly about the weather, and then some Californian earthquake-related jokes).

"I'm not," Julian said, his teeth gritted.

"Then why do you look like you're gonna cry?" Santo prodded.

"I am sure as hell not," the boy responded, as though he were insulted by the idea. "I'm angry…really pissed about what happened." He paused. "I can't believe it. I'm having trouble putting  
two and two together…that _she_ would be like that to me, after all the years I spent over at her house…"

He fell silent again.

"Just leave it. Your friend isn't worth your time if he shares his mother's views," Brian advised.

"Besides, I saw a wicked arcade down the street," Santo said. "We should—"

"Guys, I just had my best friend's mom point a _gun _at my _head_," Julian said flatly. "I'm not just going to let it go."

Silence all around. For a moment.

"Well, technically, she may have been pointing the gun at _you_—but it was totally coz I was there," Santo said, in his usual tone, as if this was nothing astonishing.

He was used to hate.

"It's not okay! Santo, a _gun!_ This is—"

"Have you not been at gun-point before?" Laura asked suddenly.

Julian stopped to stare at her. It was not so much her query as her tone, which suggested mild surprise that he seemed to have not been targeted in the past. As if it was something _everyone_  
encountered, at some point or another; normal, like going to see a movie, or riding a bike.

"Generally people don't point guns at me…so, no," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. Which Laura missed.

"Then you did not notice that it was not loaded," Laura stated.

Now everyone was looking at her.

"Are you saying that _you_ could tell?" Julian asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Yes. The cylinders were empty. If a revolver is loaded, you will be able to view the bullets in the cylinders under proper lighting cond—"

"Excuse me," Julian cut in. "I was a little distracted with having a _gun pointed at my head!_ Why is everyone acting like that's normal?!"

"You get used to it," Santo said grimly.

"Well, you shouldn't just lie down and take it!" Julian responded angrily. He looked at Laura, and it seemed to fuel his annoyance. "For instance, _you_. It isn't right that you've stood in front of a  
gun so many times that you can tell if it's loaded or not. It just shouldn't happen. Period."

Laura looked down.

No one spoke for a while, until Julian got up. "Come on. Let's find Cess and Sooraya already and go to the bus station."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** OMG, my life is a mess, lol. In no particular order, my troubles include relationship (breakup/new one/etc--still trying to sort everything out), health (killer flu--lost my voice now and can't work!--along with another problem), school, and all 3 of my computers breaking down. Luckily I managed to salvage all my stories from the computer I was writing on. I'm updating on another computer right now and it's more difficult to do than before; so please bear with my now slow updates. I haven't abandoned any stories.

Thanks, you guys rock! I will post this note on all stories that are in progress.

* * *

**-8-  


* * *

**

"This is _awesome!_" Cessily practically squealed. She was sitting beside Kevin and Sooraya in the greyhound bus at the station, about to embark on the several hour trip to  
Disneyland. Across the aisle sat Julian and Laura with a stranger; Brian sat in the next row with Jay, and Santo, who took up two seats on his own, sat in the row following.

Santo and Cessily had received odd looks when boarding the bus, but so far, the atmosphere in California seemed to be more lenient towards mutants. Laura guessed that  
this might be because of the more liberal lifestyle that tended to attract different minorities. At least, in this part of the state.

"Excited?" Julian asked her.

"Why?" Laura asked, her face blank.

"Because we're going to have FUN," he said, slightly confused. He reminded himself whom he was speaking to. "You know…"

"No, I do not know," she said, her voice even.

The person beside them was on her cell phone, so he felt comfortable explaining.

"We're going to see all sorts of cool stuff. Granted, lots of it is childish…but there's a couple of rides that are worth seeing, like I said before. Don't you look forwards to having a good time?"

Laura considered this. A good time, to her, meant safety, and knowing everyone in the facility was dead. She could see a large gap between his and her idea of 'fun'. But he was waiting for her answer.

"Yes," she said. It was always easier to say yes.

Julian put his arm around her shoulders, surprising her. He'd done so on one occasion before, the evening of the dance, and it seemed to be body language for 'possession'. Publicizing their connection.

"Jeez, you're still like a board," he mumbled, into her ear. "Relax. Nothing's going to happen…nothing you won't like, anyway."

He smiled at her, and Laura found herself giving him a strained smile back. At least he no longer seemed to be upset about the events of earlier (a misfortunate incident at his ex-friend's house).

**…**

"This is too good to be true," she said, staring through the binoculars.

"What is?" Her companion, a man, asked in a bored tone, his hand ruffling through a bag of chips.

"X is getting all snuggly with some kid that's still wet behind his ears," she said, grinning. "Wonder how much she's told him."

"Probably nothing," the man replied, still not sounding enthused. "Not much to get excited about…she's a teenager, and that's what they _do._"

"You fat idiot!" the woman spat, side-kicking her companion as she continued to watch. "This is _gold._ _This_ is how I'm going to finally break the disobedient little clone into behaving."

"Whatever. As long as we follow orders, I'm happy."

"Going to take more than that to make _me_ happy," she said. She licked her lips.

"Where's the bus headed to?" the man asked.

"Disneyland." The woman suddenly smiled, brilliantly. "Oh, even _better._ Didn't the audio have something about a haunted house?"

"Yeah," her companion said.

"AHAHA!" she laughed. "This is going to be so much _fun. _Aheh."

"Whatever," the man grumbled.

**…**

"Wait here," Julian told the group as they entered the lobby of the hotel. "I'm going to 'remind' them about who I am before they can start any trouble." He paused. "Laura, come on."

She followed him, curious as to why he wished for her presence. He approached the desk, and a well-groomed man looked up.

"Hi," Julian said, propping his elbows on the counter.

"Hello," the man said. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah. I have bookings here." Julian pulled out a credit card and slapped it on the desk. "Find them."

The man raised his eyebrow. "Pardon me…where are your parents? You must be—"

"Trust me, you'll want to do as I say," Julian said smugly. "My parents are regular customers, and they wouldn't be happy to hear that you're denying me service."

Laura watched the social interaction with interest. Her companion was doing something; attempting to intimidate the man.

"Be that as it may, it's illegal for—" the man's eyes fell on the card sliding across the table, pushed by Julian's fingers. He read the name, and stopped; then he changed  
what he had been about to say.

"Right away, Mr. Keller," he said. "Let me find out which rooms you booked. Just one minute, please."

Julian turned to Laura, one elbow still on the counter; and he grinned at her, pleased. She was aware that he had _wanted_ her to see this; perhaps it was his measure of his  
importance. She sensed that his heart was beating faster, and that his brain was releasing endorphins, much like those released during physical activity.

He _enjoyed _intimidating people, she noted.

"Alright," the man said, getting up and walking to a cabinet. He withdrew three velvet pouches, then returned to the counter and presented them. "Here are your keycards.  
You will find two for each room. I will require you to sign this form." He reached below the counter and withdrew a piece of paper, which Julian signed with a pen that had been  
lying on the marble surface. His signature was embellished, as if it had had much practice.

**…**

_Ding!_

The group entered the elevator, bags in tow, and all conversing lightly, in a happy mood. The doors closed behind them, and Cessily pressed the button for their floor. Julian  
looked at Laura and noted that her expression was one of displeasure, slightly puckered. She was staring intently at an older man in a business suit who was their elevator companion.

"What's up?" he whispered as the elevator began to ascend.

She looked at him questioningly.

"You look upset."

"This man has just released a noxious gas from his digestive system," Laura said loudly, still staring at the perpetrator. "It consisted of nutrients in a range of five to two hours old, and  
contained the following: blue cheese, red wine, sauerkraut, red kidney beans, pickled eggs—"

Julian almost dropped his bag, not having expected Laura to begin describing their elevator companion's habits in detail. Everyone had detected it, but it was usually common courtesy not  
to announce it in such a public manner.

The man stared at them; Julian turned beat red, having never encountered such an awkward situation. Laura was still watching the man with a displeased (and distressed) expression.

When the doors opened for their floor, Julian rushed out, taking her hand and pulling her with him (mumbling 'sorry' to the man as he did so). As soon as the doors closed, Julian pulled her aside.

"Laura—you _don't_ describe—that!" he hissed.

"You asked me what was wrong," Laura argued.

"Yeah, but—I mean, for one thing, aren't you kind of exposing the fact that you're a mutant?"

"You were angered that we should have to conceal our powers earlier. In addition, Cessily, Santo, and Jay are more likely to be recognized first."

"Yeah, but—" Julian struggled to find a way to explain that one did not practice the social habits that Laura seemed to find perfectly acceptable.

"Dude, your girlfriend is _awesome!_" Santo said, having remained to watch the discussion, with a wide grin. "She can be our silent-but-deadly radar. Like the canary they have in the mines…"

"Shut up," Julian said, but he did relax slightly. "God…just never do that again, Laura."

"It was not me that released the odor," Laura said firmly.

**…**

"So, what do you think?" Julian asked as they entered the suite.

It contained a king-sized bed, two recliners, a desk, and a flat-screen television, in addition to the balcony visible beyond the fluttering curtains. Laura's boots sunk into the carpet  
as she entered, examining her surroundings.

"It is…spacious," Laura said. Her last experience with hotel rooms had been when her client had killed himself with a buck knife, much like those used in hunting. The rooms had been  
nowhere as luxurious, nor as large.

Julian brought their luggage in with a wave of his hand. "Knew you'd like it," he said, setting the cases down at the recliners, then kneeling down and removing his shoes. After that  
he approached the bed and sat down on the edge, his eyes on Laura (with an expectant undertone).

She had seen the expression before, but somehow she did not feel pressured to comply (perhaps because he looked slightly uncertain, still, of how much he could really ask of her).

Laura reached down for her boot zippers, but then he spoke:

"Leave them on," he said.

**…**

"That was…" he panted, a few minutes later, his forearm across his eyes.

Laura looked up expectantly. He didn't finish the comment, suddenly finding it hard to stay awake. He felt drained, from the emotional trauma of earlier, and the four-hour bus ride,  
not to mention their recent activities.

"'That was', what?" she asked.

"…uh…." Julian started. "The best?"

"The best of what?" Laura seemed confused.

"Never mind."

Neither spoke for a while, and Julian began to fall asleep again. Then…

"Why was it wrong that I stated facts in the elevator, Julian?" she asked, tilting her head up to look at him, sounding genuinely confused. He blinked, and sighed slightly. Trust Laura  
to revive the most unattractive topic she could possibly think of for pillow-talk.

"Did you grow up in a _barn?_" he asked, a little meanly.

"No. I spent my childhood in an isolated cell. You are aware of this."

Julian reached down and smoothed her hair out of her eyes, feeling the mild annoyance at the choice of topic fade.

"Hard to explain. It was rude of him, yeah…but it's not polite either for you to call him out on it. It makes for awkward situations."

Laura paused. "How should I have answered your inquiry?"

He thought. How could he explain so that Laura would understand?

"You could have waited till we left. Or, you know…you could've whispered it to me."

Laura considered this, seriously. "Alright," she said.

He hesitated a moment, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead affectionately. "You're the _only_ person I won't give you heck for asking questions like that," he teased.

Laura raised her eyebrow. "What is a heck?"

Julian laughed. After a while, he explained. He continued to stroke her hair until he fell asleep, feeling content.

**…**

"I haven't been to an IHOP in _ages!_" Cessily said. "I _love_ California! This is only like the best place ever."

The group was sitting around a large table in a corner booth, digging their way through stacks of pancakes, mounds of hash browns, and other assorted fried  
nutrients. Laura knew that Cessily was referring to the fact that most establishments in New York refused her service because of her different appearance (having been witness  
to an incidence of such treatment).

"It's pretty awesome," Julian agreed. He looked over at Laura's small plate beside his. Hers consisted of only three plain pancakes and a small square of butter, while his contained  
a pile of waffles adorned with syrup, glazed fruit and whipped cream, in addition to a large strawberry milkshake on the side.

"You really don't want anything else?" he asked her. "It's on me."

"No, this is sufficient," Laura said, loading her fork.

"She's makin' you look bad, Keller," Santo commented. "You eat like the blob compared to _her_."

"Shut up," Julian said, wrinkling his nose (although he'd been thinking the same thing). This stayed on his mind, and when the waitress removed their plates, almost half of his  
order remained uneaten.

"So…to the park next, right?" Cessily asked.

"Yeah," Julian said, leaning back and stretching his arms over the top edge of the seat. "We should get a rough idea of what we're going to do now. We'll be much more efficient later, when  
we hit the line-ups. I can describe everything…I've been there like fifteen times."

"Fifteen times? Dude, you sure you won't be bored to tears?" Santo asked.

"Nah." Julian let his arm slip down around Laura's shoulders, a move he'd slowly been pulling for the last ten minutes. She still stiffened when he touched her, but did not remove  
the limb from her person.

"I trust you guys to take care of that for me," he said.

The group began to discuss their plans for the agenda, unaware that the restaurant's security camera was taking in two sets of recordings: one for the manager, and  
one for an unauthorized tap.

Upon exiting the restaurant, Laura's eyes swept the parking lot and found no unusual vehicles. She did not think to check the roof, on which the woman stood, binoculars in hand,  
the breeze blowing the free strands of her hair out of her face—and her scent out of the girl's way.

Not that it mattered. New strategical research had provided a method to become scentless. A certain material, when ingested, blocked the sweat-producing glands from  
functioning. After a month of this treatment, she was ready.

Her eyes narrowed. She _was_ ready. Before…before had been all fun and games, when the clone was a little girl, a little rag doll to put in her place. But now, the clone had to be taught, to be broken.

Because, in a sense, in a twisted, perverse sense, Kimura loved Laura as her own, felt that with every punishment she expressed her love and concern for the girl. The more  
she hurt her, the closer the girl would be to understanding.

Because Kimura was broken, and things didn't connect right. She knew this. With every heart beat, every breath she took. She'd been told before. She'd sat in her apartment, empty, in  
a housecoat, her hair matted, her fingers sticky with junk food; she'd sat in a cell, her hands wrapped against her body firmly by canvas as she sought the magic moment when everything  
would align. The broken pieces would snap together, and she'd be whole again, after years of trying to keep the pieces from escaping her.

Dr. Rice had come to her, in her padded cell, smiling, and telling her he had the last piece, the one that had gone missing when she'd been admitted to the asylum. Kimura had  
stared up at him dully with bloodshot eyes.

He'd shown her the girl's picture, and she'd seen herself. The missing piece. Everything _did_ snap together, and X-23 was the glue, the glue that would hold it all together,  
if she taught her the right lessons.

Kimura was ready to do that.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Thanks for reviews! =) and yup I'm looking forwards to the march X-23 comic.

* * *

**  
- 9 -**

* * *

"So…was I right?" Julian asked, later that day, as he handed Laura a stick with what appeared to be a cotton ball on it. It smelled of  
sugar. She gave him a confused look, and held the stick uncertainly. He didn't notice for about a minute, replying to something Cessily  
had shouted over the noise of the crowd.

"Uh…" he turned back to see Laura still watching the cotton candy, obviously perplexed. "You're supposed to eat it."

"It does not appear edible," Laura said.

"It is."

"It smells like sugar."

"It is."

"Then it has no nutritional value."

"Laura, taste it."

She took a small bite, wary; her taste buds gave an almost painful twang as the sugar hit her sensory organs. She coughed.

"It is overwhelmingly sweet. I cannot eat this." She handed the stick back to Julian, who looked surprised.

"Okay, maybe it's not your thing then," he said after a moment. "No worries…I can have it. What do you want?"

Laura gazed at the food choices, uncertain.

After a few minutes, they left the food stand, Laura holding a hot dog in one hand (still not very nutritious, but far more tolerable  
to her heightened senses) and his hand in the other as they followed their companions.

**…**

"Guess no one told _him_ not to talk to strangers," Kimura said, tossing the man's throat aside. The rest of him followed and landed  
in the grass with a _thump!_

"Kind of ironic," her companion said. "No one will even notice."

"He looks like a prop," Kimura said, then smiled brightly. "I should charge them for redecorating." She paused. "Repeat your instructions."

The man sighed. "Disable communications with bug implant, head for the circuit room. But aren't they going to notice two operatives  
going into the staff room?"

"Harkins has it covered," Kimura said. "In the meantime, if anyone stops you…that's what the card is for. _No one_ stops FBI, apparently."

She proceeded past the gravestones towards the decrepit-looking mansion, her smaller firearm drawn. "X is going to get a much  
better ride than she's paying for," she said, her eyes on the mansion's door.

**…**

"Seriously," Julian gasped as they exited a roller coaster, "how can you be so unaffected by that? I mean…you're, like, ms. sensitive."

"It was not overwhelming," Laura said mildly. "Comparable to falling off a bridge, except slower."

"…" A few people stared at her, including Santo, Kevin, Cessily, and the aforementioned Julian.

"You've _done_ that?" Cessily asked meekly.

"Yes." Laura felt uncomfortable.

"You mean like bungee jumping, right?" Santo asked.

"No."

"How—was it an accident?" Cessily asked.

"No," Laura said again.

Silence.

"…" Santo gave Julian an awed look. "Dude, again, your girlfriend is _awesome. _She's totally my new hero."

"Yup, she's great," he replied, seeming relieved.

Laura looked at the ground. She had sensed the moment of tension, of not fitting in, and had noticed his apprehensive look at  
being associated with her. It was a tangled web of social nuances and complexity that Julian had trapped her in, like a spider  
traps a fly.

"Well, I'm glad your OK," Cessily said. She glanced around, saw that Kevin was still about twenty feet away (exiting the previous  
ride), and said: "Come on guys—let's go to the love tunnel thing!"

Santo inhaled sharply. "NO WAY!"

"Yes way!" Cessily said.

"It's all well and good for _you_ guys, but I'd have to sit with _Brian!_" he exploded.

Julian winced. "Uh, Cess, maybe it's not such a good idea. It'd be boring as hell for most of us."

"Listen _here,_" Cessily hissed, coming close enough to Julian for him to hear her whisper. "I want every second I can get with  
Kevin alone, and this is an _awesome_ excuse. Especially if _you_ suggest it."

Julian looked helpless. "Uh, okay…but I think you should just _talk_ to him, Cess."

"I can't!" she wailed.

"Okay," he said again. "Guys?"

"I will go," Sooraya said.

"Absolutely _not_." Santo folded his arms.

"Way to back up your friends!" Cessily snapped. "Didn't I talk to Andrea for you? _Didn't I? _And you said you **owed** me one!"

Julian snorted.

"Shut up!" Santo said, alarmed. "Okay, fine, I'll go! Damn you!"

"Don't try anything on me," Brian warned.

"You _wish_," Santo mumbled.

**…**

"That'll do 'er," the man said, plugging in the last cord to the circuit board. "Intel was great this time. I can't believe they found  
so much on Disneyland programming."

"Yet they remain incapable of fixing the door X broke in the labs," Kimura said. "They're fucking idiots, but that won't matter  
now. All that matters is we subdue the target."

The man glanced at her. "This is personal, isn't it?"

Kimura glared back at him. "If you continue that thought, I'll rip off your cock and feed it to you. _Understand_?"

Her companion closed his eyes and nodded. It wasn't worth it.

"Yeah, whatever," he said, closing the circuit panel.

Kimura withdrew her firearm from its holster. "I'm going to go recon and make sure everything's on schedule."

**…**

"This is lame," Julian mumbled into the palm of his hand. They were riding giant swans through what seemed to be a dark  
canal full of slowly-running water; on either side were elaborate, nonsensical displays. Laura was uncertain of the purpose  
of this ride. She could hear people whispering to each other all through the tunnel, and muffled giggles.

"'Lame'?" she asked, turning to look at him. He looked different in the dark, with her night vision active.

"Stupid." He sighed. "I just…I feel bad for Cess, y'know? So I keep letting her talk me into this crappy stuff…even though I _  
know_ it won't help her."

"Help her?" Laura drew her eyebrows together. "Are you referring to her attraction to Kevin Ford?"

"No shit, Sherlock," Julian said.

"…"

"It's an expression." He leaned his cheek on his palm and looked at her. "You really need to learn how to talk, Laura. _That's  
_the best way to fit in."

"I am proficient in six languages," Laura said, offended. "I already know how to 'talk', and my grammar is far better than yours."

"_Burrrrn,_" Santo hissed from somewhere in the darkness behind them.

Julian let his annoyance slip. "Really? _Six?_ Like what?"

"English, French, Japanese, Mandarin, Spanish and Greek," Laura said. "I have also received some partial training in  
Dutch, Portuguese, and Italian."

"…" Julian stared at her. "But I asked you if you could help me. You said no. I had that spoken Spanish test, and I barely passed it."

"Because I could not help you," Laura said calmly. "Your pronunciation is wrong, and I do not believe you would be able to  
improve it, no matter how much you attempt it."

"Geez, thanks." Julian fell silent; and she realized that she had somehow offended him. She was about to ask how, and then  
the pieces began to click together. Had it been her criticism?

She knew that the boy seemed to pride himself on being 'the best', and liked to make it known. Perhaps he considered her  
criticism to be an attempt at insubordination, of a sort. She tilted her head, unsure of how to remedy the situation; at that  
moment, a ruckus broke out behind them.

"_DUDE!"_ Santo bellowed in the dark.

Laughter.

"Do NOT do that! NOT COOL!"

Julian snorted, looked at Laura to check for her reaction—and realized that she wasn't paying attention. Or she was, but not  
to the stupidity going on in the boat behind them. She had her head raised and cocked to the side, listening, her eyes wide  
and alert.

Suddenly—all so suddenly—she stood up and jumped over the side of the boat, into the water.

"LAURA! What are you—" he hissed, about to pull her back on board. Then he realized his powers would be glaringly obvious  
in the dark; so after a moment's thought, he lept in after her, hoping it wouldn't be deep.

It wasn't. The water came up to his knees. He waded upstream, the boats passing him by as he moved in the opposite  
direction; he finally saw Laura standing in the corner…just standing, peering into the darkness at something he couldn't see.

"Laura, wha—"

"Be quiet." Laura's voice was commanding, something he'd heard so few times from her. Mostly during training sessions.

Silence for a while, with the two remaining in place. Julian started to shiver from cold, and he thought he felt something cold  
and slimy brush past his bare leg (he had picked that day to wear shorts, of course). He waded further, reached out and put  
his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey. Going to tell me what this is all about?"

"I heard something," Laura said softly.

"Heard what?" Julian was skeptical. How could she hear anything but snickers and loud whispers in the tunnel? Especially  
since Santo had been shouting at that particular moment.

"I don't know." Laura paused. "A clicking sound. And muscles, crouching."

Julian suddenly felt afraid, although he couldn't pinpoint the reason. _Don't be ridiculous, _he thought, peering into the  
darkness. The boats had passed, and now they were alone in the canal.

"Who?"

"I don't know. There was no scent."

"I see." Julian frowned. "Laura…"

She lowered her head. "It sounded like Kimura," she whispered. "The same heart pattern, the same…"

Julian held up his hand and lit his hand. He'd found he could act like a small flashlight if he thought about moving air  
particles. The canal was illuminated to reveal…no one.

He squeezed her shoulder. "C'mon. Let's go."

Laura nodded, looked up; her eyes widened and fell on something over his shoulder. He turned and saw two men  
wearing staff uniforms, with stern, angry expressions.

"What the hell are you kids doing?!" one of them asked.

"Sir…she fell off," Julian lied. He'd always been quick to fabricate information; he'd lied his way into many a teachers'  
graces at the school. White lies, of course. Still. "The boat took the turn too sharply."

The staff man folded his arms. "Yeah right. More like you were horsing around, and _then_ she fell off, because you _made_ the boat tip."

Julian folded _his_ arms. "You know who I _am,_ right?"

"Yeah. A dumb kid who's about to lose his visiting privileges, and get dragged up to security for setting off our alarm systems."

"No, I'm Julian _Keller,_" he said, smirking. "If you so much as lay a finger on me, I'll call my dad, and my team of lawyers will get this ride  
shut down. Oh, and you'll never have a job again."

**…**

"Perhaps it was not wise to threaten him," Laura murmured, as she sat beside Julian in the security office, dripping water onto the floor.

"Relax. I lifted our lawyer's phone number off my dad's desk before we left. He's a family friend…he'll have us out in no time." Julian had  
withdrawn a business card from his wallet as he spoke. "Give me ten seconds," he added, rummaging in his other pocket for his cell phone.

As Julian began his conversation (smooth-talking with what seemed to be a secretary to let him through to his contact), the Security Officer  
entered the room and glared at the two teenagers.

"What've you got to say for yourselves?" he growled.

Laura bowed her head.

Julian held up a finger, looking away.

"In my day, kids weren't this rude," the man snapped. "Look at me when I'm addressing you, and get off your god-damned  
phone, kid. You have some explaining to do."

"….yeah, Gary? Hi! This is Julian…yeah, Bill's son…" Julian grinned. "Listen, I need you to talk to this guy for me and tell him just _  
who_ my dad is and what he does, because he's away on vacation right now. I promise…there'll be something in it for you. No—nothing  
serious…just a little misunderstanding." He paused, then held out the phone to the security officer.

"It's for you," he said innocently.

…

"Are you certain your parents will not mind your usage of their contacts?" Laura asked as they left the security office, the man still  
flushing furiously, his tie loosened and his forehead shining with sweat.

"Nah. They're used to it." Julian grinned again, at her. "See? I can just about get away with _murder._ I can have anything I want, at  
any time." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they walked, and Laura realized he had said this to impress her.

She smiled slightly. His actions had almost a comedic effect, but she said nothing.

They made their way to the end of the Canal ride, and after a while of searching (cheating with Laura's powers), they managed to  
find their friends, looking worried and searching the crowd around _them. _

"Where'd you guys go?" Cessily asked when they reunited.

"Got a little sidetracked," Julian said.

"Or lucky," Santo accused.

"That too," Julian replied.

"We did not—" Laura began.

"Where to next?" Julian cut in, obviously quite willing to have the others believe this misinformation, even though it was wrong.  
"We have time for one, maybe two more. It's getting a bit late." A glance at his watch showed that it was almost eight o' clock.

"I know!" Cessily said. "Let's do the Haunted House now!"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Please note, I have never been to Disney Land. While writing this chapter, I did hours of research on the Haunted Mansion, to make my story as accurate as possible. If I've gotten something wrong, please ignore it ^^

* * *

**- 10-  
**

* * *

After deciding to try the Haunted Mansion, the group headed through a set of ornate metal gates towards an elaborate, looming mansion on the top of a small hill. Laura twitched as the gate  
squeaked closed behind them, but her nervousness was of an entirely different sort. She was still shaken over the thought of hearing Kimura, but she reassured herself by thinking that perhaps  
she had heard nothing, as only one sense had picked up a trace.

"Outstanding," Brian murmured. They had just entered the foyer of the Haunted Mansion, and witnessed an introductory scene, along with about twenty other guests (some who had traded  
uneasy glances on seeing Cessily and Santo, but had not commented).

Laura was mildly impressed—and distracted. She could hear the soft _whurrs_ of machinery, the scent of oil; but the visual effects were well coordinated, and some of the audible effects almost  
concealed the components of construction. The room had 'stretched' (an optical illusion, as Laura's sharp eyes caught the motions in-between the striped wall-paper as panels slid into place),  
and four portraits had been revealed, each playing out a scene. She turned her head left and right, and for the first time realized the extent of life's creativity; perhaps a sense of what she |  
had missed in her cell.

To her, this mansion had no purpose. But it was still, somehow…entertaining.

Above them, the chandelier suddenly lit up and exposed a semi-realistic corpse suspended from the rafters by a noose. Laura studied it, her ears hearing the _whirring_ sound of an elevator  
descending. She caught sight of a control panel—well camouflaged but accessible—in the corner.

"The angle of his neck is wrong," she murmured to Julian. "A spine broken by a noose would assume an approximate angle of—"

"Shh." He took her hand in his as a wall suddenly disappeared beside them. Laura could hear the casters as it rolled, hear the pulleys in their sockets. She decided not to comment and followed  
the pull on her hand as Julian headed down the revealed corridor.

On their left hand side, artificial thunder began to sound out from the dirty windows. On their right; several portraits changed to show bloody scenes.

As they reached the end of the hallway, more effects began to occur. Statues appeared to follow the group, rotating on their pedestals;, and Cessily remarked loudly how 'cool' it was. Laura knew  
that the 'statues' were actually negative impressions on the wall that relied upon simple optical illusions to operate, but she again withheld comment, as Julian seemed to want her to do.

They reached a cold room, thick with dust, and containing black, upright, pods with bucket seats, firmly attached to rails. There were two to a car. Each had a metal restraining bar in a raised position.

Laura noted an attendant in the shadows, dressed in a costume fitting the period theme of the mansion's interior. A man. Her eyes fell on him, and seemed to linger; Laura felt the hackles on the  
back of her neck rise, but a _snff _revealed nothing. She hadn't seen this person before.

"Let's grab the same one," Julian suggested, unaware of the interaction. She followed him to a car near the front and slipped into the seat, still feeling uneasy about the woman she'd noticed. Another  
attendant passed by to ensure that they were seated properly and that the metal bar had been moved into the proper restraining position.

A few minutes passed, as the attendants loaded the other twenty-or-so people that were to accompany them on the ride.

"Pretty empty," Kevin mumbled, in the seat behind them with Cessily.

"That's coz it's late…this must be the last ride for the day," Julian said. He grinned at Laura. "Bet he _loves_ this place…it's totally the thing for a—_oof!_"

Cessily's arm had whipped around the chair and thumped him in the sternum.

"Shut _up!_" she hissed from behind.

Laura heard the vertebrae in Kevin's neck move as he looked down, along with an increase in hormones. He was angered by the comment.

Julian rubbed his chest and stared straight ahead, but he was still smirking. The ride began to move, at a slow rate, and Laura redirected her attention to the attraction, although her mind  
was on other matters.

Why did he feel the urge to make others feel uncomfortable?

The ride began to slow even further, and they were presented with what appeared to be an endless hallway, with a candlebra floating in the middle.

Laura squinted. "There are two mirrors, on either side," she whispered. "A thin sheet of fabric is obscuring the view and creating the—"

He elbowed her in the ribs again. "_Laura,_" he scolded. "You're ruining it."

"I am only calling your attention to facts," Laura whispered in protest.

"Well, it spoils it for everyone. We _like_ not knowing how it's done. Just stop thinking so much and enjoy it, okay?" he murmured in her ear.

"Okay," Laura said, not used to being unaware of her environment. He kissed her ear lobe and rested his head on her shoulder, looking ahead once more. They passed a figure in old  
armor that seemed to move.

The cars turned to face a room constructed of metal and glass, filled with fake foliage that had been created to appear dead. Laura found this unrealistic because she could smell no  
rot. She remained silent, and watched the animatronic scene of a corpse trying to escape a coffin.

"Wow," Cessily whispered from the back row, impressed.

The ride continued, moving into another corridor filled with doors. They moved errantly, shuddering and groaning, and one door appeared to expand and retract in the motion of breathing.  
There were also several portraits of corpses adorning walls covered in paper portraying strange creatures with eyes that glowed.

The ride jerked to a halt.

"Didn't do this last time," Julian said.

"Weird," Cessily said from behind. "Maybe someone touched the tracks?"

Laura suddenly felt uneasy again. She almost stood up in the buggy, her head turning around wildly in either direction.

"Sit down," Julian hissed. "Don't want to have to—"

_Tink, tink, tonk!_

Laura's eyes widened as she heard the sound: a small object clattering onto the rails; then her eyes rolled up in her head.

**…**

"…"

Laura awakened slowly, to find herself still in the cart, her chin slumped against her collarbone.

_Julian._ He was gone. She straightened quickly, found herself still restrained by the bar; a _snkkt_ split the air and she sliced it out of her way, then climbed out of the buggy. Sniffing the air provided  
no clue as to whom their assailant was…but she could smell death.

She froze. The lights had been cut, but she could see in the dark. She turned her head slowly and found herself staring at a long line of corpses, with slowly-bleeding holes on their pale foreheads.

Laura faltered slightly as she stared. There were several small children, perhaps four or five years old.

_Focus._

Her friends were not amongst the dead. Laura raised her leg over the side and stepped onto the carpet of the hallway carefully. Sniffing the air again, she focused on the scent of her friends, faint  
but traceable, and followed it down the track to the next scene of the ride.

**…**

Julian raised his head slowly. It hurt. And it was dark.

He was in a large, stuffy room, his hands chained above his head. His limbs felt stiff and incompliant, as if he had spent a good deal of time in this position.

"…L-laura?" he called softly, because his head was still spinning from whatever had been used to drug him.

A cold hand reached out of the darkness and laid itself on his cheek.

"X isn't here. But you're going to put on a little show for her…oh, yes, you are."

The voice was female; a woman's, yet spoken in a girlish, high-pitched fashion. Mocking him. He had a sudden feeling—perhaps instinctual, and very obscure, since he'd only heard it twice—that he knew  
this woman's name.

"Kimura?" he asked weakly.

"Oho!" The woman laughed in the darkness beside him. "The one and only. How sweet, the clone told you about me. Did she tell you what I like to do?"

_She punishes me when I disobey. She is my handler. _Laura's words suddenly came to the forefront of his memory with horrifying clarity. The cold hand on his cheek flexed; its nails bit into his flesh, deeper and  
deeper until it was clawing at him.

"Nggn—" he twisted his head away from her hand, and felt something wet pouring down his neck. _Blood. _

"I punish X," Kimura whispered, her voice serious now. "I'll punish X how I see fit, because she's been a bad clone. And you…you helped her disobey."

She paused.

"I'm going to punish _you_, too."

"You're c-crazy," he hissed through his rubbery jaw. "You can't…hurt me. I'm…_telekinetic…_you idiot."

"Oh really?" Kimura leaned closer, so he could make out part of her face. "Why do you think we drugged the hell out of you kids? Why would we _bother? _I could've shot you along with the rest of those sticks…but I  
didn't. Because we're going to play a little game."

Even as she spoke, Julian realized she was right. He could barely string thoughts together, let alone lift things with them. He sagged into his shackles and hoped that Laura would…would…he began to black out again.

**…**

Laura followed the rail track into a dimly lit room, decorated with suspended musical instruments, some floating slightly in place. A large drop awaited her on either side; peering down, she could see nets strung  
between the two surfaces, supposedly for accidents.

Across the gap sat a chair and a table, in the center of which was a round, glass ball. Inside was a blank, white head with a wig.

Laura was about to move on, when a motion caught her eye. An image had been projected onto the face in the glass ball; that of a woman.

She opened her mouth, but it wasn't a stranger's voice that came out.

"Hello, X," Kimura's voice flooded the stage room. Laura was riveted to the floor, her spine stiff like a steel rod, her pores suddenly producing cold sweat. _No._

The voice reverberated for a while through the empty set. Laura stared at the ball. The woman's face continued to make speaking expressions, but no words came out, as the audio had obviously been hijacked.

"Enjoying the show, clone? It's nothing compared to what's coming up."

"No," Laura said out loud.

"Hurry up! We're all ready to go!" A pause.

In the distance, faintly, a loud yell of pain. Julian's voice.

"_No!_" Laura began to run, leaving the display behind. Her boots caught on the buggy rails and she fell face-first in a sprawled heap, momentarily spraining her wrist as she struggled to catch herself.

She thought. Now, she could just run, run the other way, to freedom, to the clean air and sunshine. Kimura would not expect it, because she had taken something precious and fragile—and was going to break it, as  
she had tried to break Megan and Debbie that night in the basement.

Laura's eyebrows drew together. No, she couldn't.

Behind her, Kimura laughed. Laura sat still for a moment, then realized the ground was shaking. She turned and saw the train of buggies heading towards her at neck-breaking speed.

Quickly she sat up and threw herself into the first cart, ignoring the two bodies occupying it as she avoided being crushed. She knew that she was supposed to do this, supposed to follow the track, for  
whatever Kimura had planned would be in the next exhibit.

**…**

The carts jerked to a stop in front of an enormous wall of glass, separating guests from a large ballroom with elaborate props. Laura's eyes barely took in her surroundings; she sat in the cart, numb,  
waiting for the next sign of Kimura's presence.

She could detect nothing. Not a sound…not a scent. Her senses tried to convince her that she was alone. But that didn't fool her.

Images flickered on the glass, shielded behind a layer of Plexiglas. Quickly, suddenly; almost as soon as they were there, they were gone. Laura got out of the cart and approached the Plexiglas, her  
fingers stretching out, and she pressed them against the surface, her eyes wide.

She could only see her own reflection on the second layer of glass. Beyond was a stage, a long table set for what appeared to be a birthday party; a cake with electric candles sat at the end.

Then…again, the images flickered, and stayed longer. Dancers fluttered across, dressed in gowns far more elaborate than those she'd encountered at the school dance; people sat at the table, smiling,  
and a girl leaned over the cake to blow out the candles.

_There._ Laura's eyes were drawn to the ceiling, where she saw the faint reflection of Julian, his head hanging and his arms suspended above his head with shackles—and he was bleeding. There was a  
large cut on his cheek, and several stains blotching his shirt.

And a hand, holding a buck knife.

The images disappeared, but Laura was done watching.

"Kimura!" she shouted, whipping around, her eyes searching. This was an illusion—she knew that Julian had to be somewhere behind and possible above her, judging from the angle. She could see nothing,  
but she was certain. Laura ran to the other side of the room and began running her fingers over it; then she heard another muffled cry.

She froze, and looked at the glass. The knife was running along Julian's throat, in a threatening gesture.

Laura tilted her head up, towards the source of the sound. Up was the only possibility. She popped all of her claws and sunk them into the plaster of the wall, gritting her teeth as she reached the ceiling,  
then shoving her fist through it.

"AHA!" Kimura's voice, now audible through the hole she'd made. Laura moved quickly, cutting the ceiling—rather, floor—out of her way and lunging through to the top level.

She was on a stage filled with animatronic figures moving around on metal tracks. In the center of this flurry of commotion was Julian, his wrists shackled above his head, which had sagged on his shoulder.

"Kimura," Laura said, seeing her handler as she poised the knife against his throat, restricting his intake of air. "Let him go. He is not—"

"I think he's a _big_ part of this, X," the woman said. "More than you could understand. I'm going to finally teach you a lesson…and you're going to _remember _this one, aren't you?"

Julian raised his head slightly. "Luh…" he said.

Laura froze. She didn't want him to see what they would do, what Kimura would do to her. He was still innocent.

The decision was solidified in the split second that Kimura moved to cut his throat with the buck knife; Laura charged, catching the woman by surprise, and off the edge of the stage they flew.

_**SMASH!  
**__  
_Shards of Plexiglas and real glass filled the air as the woman and the girl sailed through the barrier between the viewing stage and the cars on the rails, then dropped to the ground, farther  
down than Laura had expected.

There were _three_ levels.

"ARRRRRRRRRGH! _CLONE!_" Kimura screamed, having taken the brunt of the impact. She grabbed a handful of Laura's hair and pulled; the girl grimaced in pain and struggled to fight back.

Kimura ripped her head backwards and grinned, revealing very white, even teeth. "You're so stupid, X. You _know_ I'm just going to go back and kill him. Why even bother to fight me? All you're  
doing is costing Disneyland a fortune!"

Laura raised her still-clawed fist and sliced through the chunk of hair, freeing her from the woman's grasp. She had to act quickly; Kimura could not be defeated, so the mission was to escape—but  
she had to find the others first. And free Julian. She had to get back to the upper level. She looked up and saw the enormous chandelier.

Whirling around, Laura ran towards the small, broken staircase in the back of the room, Kimura in hot pursuit. She leapt on top of a large piano (the keys of which depressed without visible contact)  
and over it, then shoved the unit as hard as she could into the other woman's stomach.

"ARRGH!" Kimura roared, having not expected the movement. She stumbled backwards, but Laura kept going; her heart pounded almost as loudly as her boots on the rickety staircase, her eyes on the chandelier.

Would it hold?

"CLONE! COME BACK HERE!" Kimura shouted, but it was too late. Laura had already leapt, and hit the chandelier with a thunderous _tinkle, _focusing her effort on leaning forwards. She would only get  
one chance. If she failed…

The ceiling groaned as the chandelier swung over towards the mid level of the balconies; and Laura's fingers caught the edge. She swung her claws into the underside to further anchor herself, then  
crawled up, Kimura screaming insults at her all the while.

Running into the darkness, Laura headed back towards the first room they'd encountered, on foot. The elevator.

Kimura was not long in escaping the bottom level. Laura could hear the woman's boots thudding dully on the carpet behind her, and her heavy, crazed breathing. Her heart was beating hard—not with  
fear, or anxiety that her charge would escape, Laura knew—but with the thrill of the hunt.

Quite quickly—far faster than the buggies had moved—Laura reached the room with striped wall paper—and stopped.

"I'm disappointed, X," Kimura said, coming to a halt as well, inside the room. "You're not even going to _try_ to save them? Huh. I thought you were a hero now."

"I am not a hero," Laura said coldly, her hand finding the control panel she'd seen earlier, and pressing the button. Then she ripped her claws through the entire panel, destroying it.

"CLO—" Kimura shouted, but it was too late. Laura had withdrawn her hand, and the striped room moved upwards, leaving a blank expanse.

It had bought her five, maybe ten minutes. She whirled around and tore off into the darkness once more, back the way she had come.


	11. Chapter 11

**- 11 -  


* * *

**

"…" Julian raised his head slightly. Metal gleamed in the semi-darkness; he started to struggle. She was going to kill him!

"No! Stay still!"

Laura's voice. He blinked, struggled to focus; she was severing the shackles on his hands with her claws. Suddenly he was free and staggering forwards, his legs not ready to support him.

"Stop!" She caught him as he teetered at the edge of the stage, staring down at the buggy track and an enormous wreckage of smashed glass.

"…w-where is…" he started, feeling slow and stupid.

"She is in the elevator. We must hurry. When she finds us again, she will kill you and take me." Laura turned his head to look at her. "You must escape. Run ahead, to the end of the track, and  
leave. Contact the X-men immediately and tell them what has occurred."

"N-no!" Julian said, righting himself slightly. "She has our friends! And I'm n-not leaving you either!"

"You are in no condition to fight. The longer we argue, the less chance at survival we have. I will look for the others."

"No." Julian rubbed his head. "If she comes again, I'll protect us…I feel better now. My powers—"

"You cannot hurt her!" Laura said. "Your powers are not strong enough, and you are injured." She paused. "Maybe Kevin can, though."

Julian got to his feet, a little unsteady, but seemingly stronger. His wounds were painful, but not mortal. "Yeah. Let's find him. I'm all for that. But I'm not leaving you, Laura…I promised you  
I wouldn't let her near us."

Laura was silent for a moment. "Contact the X-men, and inform them that we need assistance immediately."

Julian pulled out his cell phone, flipped it open, and began to press buttons, his fingers shaking. Eventually he managed to hit 'send' and held the phone to his ear; Laura only heard silence.

"No reception." He lowered the phone, his eyes wide.

"Ms. Frost. Contact Ms. Frost telepathically."

For a few moments they both attempted to reach the headmistress; however, there was no response, probably because Emma Frost was not at Cerebro at that particular moment. Finally  
Laura indicated that they should move on.

"Can you lift us?" she asked, looking towards the edge of the stage.

"Yeah." Julian took her hand and floated them down to the track. He stopped in midair, seeing the line of bodies seated in the cars.

"L-laura…" he said. "Are they—"

"Yes. Don't look." Laura said, more gently, as she could see he bore the typical expression that one who has never seen trauma tended to assume. An expression that was part shock,  
part horror and all disgust.

"But they…I mean…they're—they _were_ innocent—"

"Julian." She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Kimura is coming. We must find the others…or leave without them. You will not survive another encounter with her."

He was silent for a moment. In that moment's silence, Laura became aware of a muffled sound _beneath_ them. She tilted her head. No heartbeats, but a sort of scuffling, and then a slight moaning sound.

Laura looked towards the ballroom, thinking. There had been other reflections—on the ballroom floor. Dancers. Therefore, there was a second black room stage below them.

"Julian…take us down."

The boy finally tore his eyes away from the train of cars. "Huh?"

"There is another level below us."

Moments later, the pair were racing towards the second blackroom, and the strangely illuminated animatronic dancers, wearing bright, pastel-colored clothing in various styles and whirling around on metal tracks.

In the middle of this was Cessily, encased in a hexagonal glass enclosure—and unconscious.

Laura popped her claws again and smashed them into the walls of the tube. A sever electrical shock ran up her arm and she cried out; but it stopped as her claws broke contact with the metal panels.

"Cess! Wake up!" Julian said, lifting the girl mentally. "We have to get out of here! Laura, what's—"

"I cannot analyze her health status," Laura said, her brow wrinkled. "Cessily does not breath, or have a heartbeat that I can detect. I believe whatever force was used to subdue her was not airborne."

"You mean—she was awake for—" Julian didn't finish his sentence, but Laura knew he meant the gunshots that had been fired to remove the civilians from the equation. She nodded. "You will need to  
carry her until she awakens."

"Will do. Oh my god—if Cess was—then _Santo_ was—" Julian covered his mouth.

"We must hurry," Laura reiterated, looking into the darkness. "Take us to the next level. Knowing Kimura's logic, I am almost certain she has placed the others along the rest of the ride."

**…**

For a while they proceeded into the darkness, in silence, the only light coming from Julian's eyes and Cessily's suspended body. Laura did not need light to see that his face quite pale, and  
that he was close to being in shock.

And that it was the thought of his friends that kept him going.

"Hey, did you notice…" he said after a while.

"Yes. We are moving upwards." Laura's voice was tense. They soon reached a small show room filled with various wedding-related props, and a mannequin, wearing a white gown, suspended from  
the ceiling. A frilly veil flowed around the prop. Behind this sat a small fan.

Laura inhaled. She could detect one of their friends—not far away. Slow heartbeats, shallow breaths. Male. Jay. But where was he?

"The lonely bride," Julian said aloud. Laura glanced at him—and her eyes found a darker-than-dark area on the wall behind the mannequin.

She headed towards it, brushing past the figure. "What—" Julian called, but she continued, stepping into the dark region of space. Her neck bristled; someone was nearby. Not Kimura. But…and then  
her eyes settled on him, easily visible with her night vision.

"…must be dreaming," Julian mumbled behind her.

_Snkkt. _Laura caught her assailant by the lapel of his coat and gave him a bellyful of adamantium—and then slit his throat for good measure. She released him and he tumbled to the floor, his heartbeat fading.

The attendant she had seen in the beginning of the ride. Her lip curled.

"What just—" Julian asked.

"Jay is here," Laura said.

"Wha—" Julian held up his hand and produced light. The illumination revealed a small break room, of sorts, along with controls—and Jay, unconscious, gagged with his hands bound behind his back, looped  
through a chain. His wings were curled up and strapped to his sides with another section of chain.

"Jesus, Laura…" Julian said, looking at the man on the floor—and the large, spreading pool of blood beneath him. He was standing with one foot in the puddle, and he moved his sneaker to the side slightly,  
staring at the dark red fluid staining the toe with a distant expression.

He was verging on going into shock again. If he slipped, he would be useless. At this point, Julian's powers were the best chance they had of escaping alive, Laura knew. She could not allow him to become  
unresponsive.

"He works for the facility. He deserves to die," Laura said calmly. Without emotion, as if she was stating a fact—because, for her, it _was_ a fact. "Julian. Do not focus on the body. Assist me in freeing Jay." Her  
last words were a firm order. At first he did not react, and she thought that perhaps he had already become unresponsive; but then he knelt and began to fumble with knots on Jay's wrist bindings; after a  
few moments he realized to use his powers.

Laura began to cut the chain with her claws. Julian stopped, seeing the metal that had just taken a man's life. "Ignore them," she commanded.

Looking up, Laura noticed a small window across the room. She dragged her Jay over to the location and looked out. The ground was many feet below. Looking to the side, she saw metal rails descending  
towards what seemed to be the next scene.

"Where does the ride exit?" she asked Julian.

"The graveyard," Julian replied, looking back towards the attic room. "I can get us down. Let's go."

They returned to the attic room, where a much larger window was situated, the buggy track leading out. Julian scooped her off the ground with his arms (an inefficient gesture, but she did comment, suspecting  
that the contact was comforting to him); and moments later they were hurtling down the track, supported by his thought alone.

"Kimura…" Julian said, looking straight ahead, his expression strained. "She's batshit crazy, isn't she?"

Laura considered this.

"Yes."

He was silent. Then… "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. Before."

They had reached the ground, and he set her down gingerly, as if he was afraid he might break her. Their friends, still unconscious, remained airborne on a disc made of telekinetic energy.

Laura stopped. "Do you regret—"

"No." He looked at her firmly. "I don't regret _anything, _okay? Just not believing you. I would've made the same choices. It's not _your_ fault that she's like that."

"No," Laura agreed. She found it very different to hear someone else's opinion of Kimura; a normal person's perspective. From someone who could view the woman objectively and better understood  
the definition of sanity. She paused, then decided she would ask questions later—when they no longer needed to consider Kimura an immediate threat.

"We need to—"

"Yeah," Julian said. "I just wanted to say that." He followed her down the track, his hands balled into fists.

They passed several displays; an animatronic figure dressed in a jacket with a canine companion; various gloomy scenery; and then they reached the gates of a vast, foggy graveyard. Soon after  
entering they found themselves in the center of more 'ghosts'; transparent figures with metal skeletons inside, appearing to be having a celebration as they played on musical instruments.

"Anything?" Julian asked, thinking that Kimura seemed to deposit her victims near each scene.

"No." Laura continued to walk, towards the location of a row of statuettes; the singing busts. Julian followed her and squinted in the darkness, then stopped.

"Look!"

Brian's head was present amongst the statues. For a wild moment Julian thought it was no longer attached to his body, but then he saw that there was no blood. Running over, he could see the rest  
of Brian slumped against the bush, his hands tied together.

"Thank god," Julian said aloud, struggling to free his friend from the display.

Laura paused, listening.

"I know where Kevin is," she said, turning away. Julian redoubled his efforts and hurried after her, ignoring the fact that it was getting harder to lift the increasing mass of unconscious friends. He  
could normally move his whole squad without over-exertion, but he was still weakened from the drug used, and the shock fighting to overtake him did not help.

"There."

"No way." Julian looked where Laura was pointing—at a grave. "Laura, no way. She couldn't."

"I can hear his heartbeat. He is down there."

Julian paused, then began to extract dirt from the mound, showering the air with debris. The deeper he got, the more certain he was that Laura was right. Soon he could see a wooden  
surface—a coffin that had been part of another display. Lifting it out mentally, he forced the latch open and revealed Kevin, curled against a skeleton prop, still unaware of his situation.

And very blue.

Laura knelt by the open coffin. "He was near death. He has nearly suffocated."

"Will he be okay?" Julian asked, staring at the boy he'd ridiculed earlier.

"Yes." Laura tilted her head. "We have been here for several hours, then. He could not have survived for more than three hours, even accounting for the fact that he would  
consume less oxygen while unconscious."

"Why hasn't anyone come to help us?" Julian asked, rubbing his neck.

"I don't know." Laura considered. "The facility is likely to have fabricated false reports for the operators of this attraction. Kimura does not work alone."

_**Julian? You seem…distressed. **_

His eyes widened in his dirt-smudged, blood-smeared, pale-skinned face. "Ms. Frost?" he asked aloud. Laura looked at him sharply.

_**Yes. Is everything alright? I had a notion that—**_

"No, everything's _not_ OK," Julian said anxiously. "We need HELP, like—like—right now. Really bad. They've got—she—oh my god—"

Laura reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Concentrate," she urged him. "This is very important."

_**Who is 'she'? **_Emma asked severely.

"They found Laura," Julian said. "The—the people who made her. They've k-killed a whole bunch of p-people that were with us…and I'm still looking for all my f-friends…"

_**Are you alright? **_

"Yeah." Julian paused. "No. But I will be, if…please, just—just come."

_**We are leaving now. Cyclops, Wolverine and Elixir are accompanying myself. You must defend yourselves in the meantime, as it will take us approximately an hour  
to reach you, even at the Blackbird's top speed. **_

"An hour," Julian said out loud, to Laura. "An hour…oh my god…we—"

"We will survive," Laura said firmly.

"We'll survive," Julian repeated to Ms. Frost, for the lack of a better response.

Laura froze suddenly, her eyes turning to the fog in the area behind them.

A familiar heartbeat, pounding as the body it belonged to approached the window of the attic several hundred meters away.

"_**CLONE!**_" Kimura screamed, her voice echoing strangely in the graveyard scene, which was essentially a stage set up for audio as well as visual.

"_**I THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT I AM **_**NOT **_**HAPPY!" **_

Silence.

_**VRRRM! VRRRM! **_

Julian looked at Laura, his eyes desperate. They both recognized the sound. A chainsaw, revving its engine.

"No fucking way," he whispered.

"_**GRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!**_" Kimura screamed, a noise of effort. She was coming down the track, on foot, at a very rapid rate.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **The final chapter of Save your Breath II! There will be a third story, which I will begin posting in a bit. Subscribe to my author alerts and keep an eye on my page. Or you can check my website, http:/ . com (spaces removed), I post links and info there. Thanks so much for reading and hope you enjoyed! ^^ ~onelildustbunni

* * *

**- 12-  
**

* * *

"_JULIAN! _Lift us!" Laura ordered as she saw the blade of Kimura's chain saw flash in the fog.

Without question he complied, scooping her off her feet once again and raising them into the air, ignoring the spots swimming in front of his eyes. He brought them to about twenty  
feet before slowing, not wanting to leave the scene entirely, as two of their friends were still missing.

Kimura came into view, her head twisting this way and that as she searched for her targets. She finally spotted them and put her hand on her hip, supporting the chain saw with her  
other (the blade on the ground, using it line a cane to lean on). "I JUST WANT TO PLAY!" she shouted up to the pair.

Neither responded, but Julian's arms tightened around her waist significantly as he stared down at the woman. Laura looked down slightly as she felt a dampness on the lower part  
of her shirt; at first she thought he might have wet himself, but then she saw the stains were dark and thick.

He was bleeding. She had been constantly aware of the smell of his blood, but it had not been as heavy before. He seemed to have torn the wound during his fight to free Brian from the bushes.

"OH LOOK, LOVE BIRDS! I KNOW HOW TO GET THEM DOWN!" Kimura reached in her utility belt, and for a moment Laura thought she was extracting a firearm. Julian must have assumed  
the same, because he raised a shield; however, Kimura pulled out a small disc, and clicked her thumb on it—then threw it towards them.

_**—**_

"_**ARRRGH!**_" Julian snapped his head back instinctively, and dropped them, powerless against the ear-splitting noise. They tumbled to the ground, Julian taking the brunt of the impact; his eyes  
fluttered closed, and Laura realized he would be of no help whatsoever.

It was her and Kimura now.

The sound had stopped. Laura scrambled to her knees, and saw that Kimura was much closer now, the steel of her blade gleaming softly in the darkness, the siren in her other hand  
with her thumb over the button.

"See…_I_ have claws, too," Kimura said, her tone falsely gentle.

"No," Laura said again, her voice pleading. All she could ever say was _no, _and Kimura never listened. Kimura didn't _care_.

Kimura enjoyed her suffering.

"Ohhh, clone!" The woman laughed. "It's going to be _fun. _One day we'll look back on this and laugh. Wait. You never will…and I'm already laughing, aren't I?"

"Please…" Laura got to her feet, her brow furrowed. "Please do not harm him. I—I will come back. I—I will do anything—"

"You'll do it all anyway," Kimura said, her voice hard. "I thought I already taught you this lesson. Clone, come here…I'm going to punish you. Bring what's-his-face. I'm going to hack him into  
bits and you're going to hold him. And if you don't comply, I'll make _you_ do the hacking."

"…" Laura backed away, her heart almost freezing in her chest. If Kimura had trigger scent, then all was lost, and…she needed to run, but if she left Julian, he would certainly be killed.

"CLONE!" Kimura barked.

A movement at Laura's feet. Julian was waking up; his eyes opened and he turned his head up to the woman with the chainsaw.

"Her name's Laura, psycho," he mumbled.

"Julian, don't—" Laura said fearfully.

Kimura looked at the boy, and her features split into a grin. "_Julian, _is it now? I never caught your name, back there. Oh, there's _so much_ you should know about X. Where to  
begin?" She pulled the cord on the chain saw, revving it, and holding it up. "Maybe that she's a clone of DNA that was crap to start with?" _**VRRRM!**_"And we're ashamed of  
putting her out there?" _**VRRRM!**_"So, now I'm going to take her back…piece by piece."

Kimura sprang into action, the chainsaw whipping through the air in front of her. Laura had a split second to react; she began to run away from the boy in the grass, leading the woman away.

"_**GET OVER HERE, X!**_" Kimura shouted. "_**YOU ALREADY KNOW I CAN RUN FASTER THAN YOU! IT'S TIME TO **_**CUT**_** THE CRAP!**_"

Julian pushed himself up to his elbows, trying to force himself past the throbbing mess of his head, and the stinging mess that was his abdomen. He felt stiff and confused, possibly  
because he'd hit his skull on the way down. His vision was also blurred and distorted.

_Concentrate. _He held out his hand and it shook much worse than before; only a small green spark emerged from the tips of his fingers, then died. He seemed to be virtually powerless.

Then he saw Kimura run into the tomb scene, after Laura, and he scrambled up, the concussion an afterthought. He succeeded in getting to his feet, although he lurched sideways with  
every step, and seemed to have sprained his ankle (a jolt of pain shot up his leg with each pressure applied).

He could hear the sounds of fighting inside the tomb as he neared it; finally it was within grabbing distance, and grab it he did, in desperate need of support. He peered around the corner,  
into the dark space, and lit his finger slowly.

Laura hadn't been kidding when she'd said that Kimura was indestructible. The girl was pulling no punches. _**WHAM! WHUD! WHUD!**_ The girl's claws beat a frenzied tempo on the  
unbreakable skin, sometimes striking each other and drawing sparks.

"_**NNNGGAHH!" **_Laura, shouting in pain. Against the wall, in the dim light, he saw Kimura's chainsaw whipping down, towards the area of Laura's arm. A string of black fluid flew in an arc  
through the air and splattered against the wall and floor—and—he blinked. Had—had—_oh god—_he felt himself gag.

_**THUMP!**_

Laura was no longer making sparks.

The girl reeled and stumbled backwards, disorientated.

"…" Laura sagged and began to slide down the wall, leaving an enormous smear of blood. She had been weakened greatly. Her eyes dully found her arm, now lying on the ground like a  
mannequin limb. Julian covered his mouth with his free hand, trying to breathe, but he kept gagging.

Laura heard the sound and her eyes flickered up from her arm to his face. Her eyes widened and her lips parted; she obviously hadn't wanted him to see.

Not good. She couldn't fight back, at this exact moment…could not protect him. Laura pushed away from the wall anyway, falling to her knees as she reached weakly for her arm. Kimura stepped  
on her good hand, revving her saw and bringing it down on her back.

"—" Laura collapsed as the saw finished the job, separating her other arm from her body. All was lost, she thought, feeling her surroundings begin to fade away. She could heal—she could recover—but  
her friends were as good as dead, because she wouldn't be able to protect them anytime soon.

Julian stepped into the tomb shakily. "Stop. What the—what is _wrong_ with you? You—you're completely—"

Kimura looked at him, licked her lips. "Wait your turn, you little bag of shit." She brought the saw up again.

On the up arc, the chain sent a string of blood and other tissue flying through the air; it landed directly across Julian's face, across the bridge of his nose. Something happened; things came into  
sharper focus for him once again, and he saw the chain saw descending a third time, towards Laura's neck.

He felt like a gate had opened in his head.

No words were spoken; Kimura froze in place, the saw tip about to bite into Laura's neck. Her eyes glazed over—and then she seemed to explode from inside, her eyes, mouth and  
ears emitting green light, and smoke.

She made a horrible noise. The saw clattered to the ground, still running, and Kimura slowly folded to the ground, like a sheet.

Silence, except for the sound of the chain saw.

He stood for a moment, stunned by the enormity of what he had done. He had just…had he really? Yes, there she was, on the ground.

Laura was raising her head, slowly.

"J-j…" she swallowed, her eyebrows drawn together as . "Puh…pass me my arms…puh…please…"

The boy looked like he was going into shock again; Laura despaired. She had to do it almost immediately or…then he finally moved. He knelt down and picked up one of the  
disembodied limbs from the elbow, his hands shaking as he brought it to her. "How do I—"

"Just…press it," Laura said. "To the j-joint. It will…heal."

"Is this—I mean—" he looked at his own arms, thought for a moment as he looked at the thumb, his judgment far slower than normal. He finally made a decision, then  
pressed the end to her shoulder tentatively. A moment later a reflexive jerk ran down the limb as it reattached itself.

"T-thank you." Laura waited a moment, then pushed herself up. This had to be done as soon as possible, or it would not work. She did not know how long she could be  
separated from a limb without losing it entirely. She reached for the other arm, lying about four feet away.

"No. Here." He picked it up by the wrist and held it to the socket again, this time a bit more definitely. For a few agonizing seconds, nothing happened, and Laura looked  
down at her limb uncertainly. Had it been too long?

"If it doesn't…I…we'll…" Julian said softly, obviously thinking the same thing, but then it jolted, too, and Laura felt sensation flood down through her fingertips.

"Oh…god…" Julian wiped his forehead. "You weren't kidding."

"No."

They turned to look at Kimura, still lying, silent and smoking slightly on the floor beside the running chain-saw. Her heart…her heart had stopped, Laura realized. She looked at  
Julian again, and realized that what she had feared was complete.

He had been hurt by Her World.

"We should not linger," she said finally, getting to her feet. "They may send others."

"They're not—not like Kimura—no more of her, right?" Julian asked fearfully.

"No." Laura paused. "I don't know."

"God," Julian said again. He realized his head hurt, and he held his hand to his temple, rubbing it. "We…the oth…hafta…"

"Here." Laura reached for his hand. "Support yourself on me. You have a severe concussion, in addition to prior injuries. And possibly a sprained ankle. Do not exert yourself further."

He silently accepted her hand, his eyes dull.

**…****  
**

"That's familiar," Julian mumbled, a little later, as they passed a grave covered in a layer of oddly shaped stones, with a familiar craggy texture.

Laura paused. "You are correct. That is Santo. Here, lean on this and I will—" she referred to the tombstone, but Julian stretched his hand out, and the rocks twirled upwards like a small tornado.

Moments later, they reassembled themselves into Rockslide.

"DUDE!" Santo said, touching his chest. "What the hell—"

Julian had fallen unconscious again, his head rolling on his shoulders; Laura shifted his weight. "We are still missing Sooraya. Here, carry him; I will take one of the others. We will  
need to make two trips if we cannot rouse them."

"But—"

"Later." Laura handed Julian's now limp form over to his stronger friend, her expression grim.

**…**

"That was insane," Santo mumbled as they followed the track into a cobblestone tunnel where three 'ghosts' could be seen, their thumbs hiked up in a traditional hitch-hiking pose. He was  
carrying Jay and Brian in addition to Julian; two in his arms, and one piggyback, using the handcuffs to their advantage. Laura was dragging Cessily, wincing slightly as some of  
the still-regenerating tissue in her arms made her aware of the damage.

"Yes," Laura replied.

"Oh—" Santo paused, staring into a mirror on the side of the track. "Hey, cool—look—it's a fake mirror. They do all this with illusions, y'know."

"I am aware," Laura said.

"No need to be snarky," Santo said. "By the way, what happened to that crazy woman that knocked me and Cess out? Is she still lurkin' around?"

"She has been…subdued," Laura said stiffly. "What happened?"

"There was lotsa smoke. Cess got hit with some kinda electric shock thing," Santo said. "Then this woman came, and…well, it's kinda embarrassing. I'd rather not."

"Please," Laura said.

Santo stopped. "Fine. She flicked me with her fingernail so hard that I shattered. Never seen anything like it. She's pretty strong or somethin'," he added defensively.

"I am aware," Laura repeated. They proceeded down the hall, and reached a large cobblestone room, reminiscent of a large crypt. They paused in the doorway, their eyes drawn  
to the ledge across, where a girl in a white dress stood, her veil-covered head sagging on her shoulder.

_"Hurry back... hurry back…And don't forget your death certificate! We're just... _dying_... to have you..." _a woman's voice said in the silence, from a recording; Laura watched as an  
animation of a face speaking played on the wall behind the figure, obviously meant for the head.

"That is Sooraya," Laura said.

"What? _Really?_" Santo asked.

"Yes. In addition to the displacement, I can both hear and smell her." Laura set Cessily down, and headed towards the ledge, popping her claws as she moved.

**…**

"…this could have been avoided, _Mr. Summers, _by not allowing the students to leave without an escort," Emma Frost said angrily.

They were standing, in a group, around a parking lot in Disneyland. Cyclops, Emma Frost, Wolverine and Elixir had arrived—about twenty minutes after it had ended—to find a  
blood-covered Laura, along with Santo, in the parking lot—and a number of unconscious students. These had been revived; then Emma Frost proceeded to take care of  
'damage control'. Kimura's body was collected by Logan, and all were loaded into the stealth-moded Blackbird, except for the two witnesses (Julian and Laura), and the three X-men.

"I'm sorry, Laura," Logan grunted, staring hard at his charge, wearing a blanket around her shoulders. Laura looked down.

"I cannot stay at the institute."

"This didn't happen at the institute."

"I cannot stay."

"Laura—"

"No, Laura, stay." Julian spoke up, sounding tired. "Please."

"Wherever I go…they will hunt me," Laura said. "I endanger those around me. I will seek an uninhabited area, with—"

"What, so you just walk in, ruin my life, and walk back out?" Julian sounded angry. "If you leave…I'll _never_ forgive you."

It sounded like a small, meaningless threat, but Laura stiffened. "You do not und—"

"What? I don't understand? What don't I understand, Laura?"

Laura fell silent. Emma Frost was now looking at her, looking at _them, _and figuring something out. She now knew who had killed Kimura—and the price it had cost them.

**…**

Back at Julian's home, sitting around the pool, but now with Logan in the shade, drinking a beer.

"This _sucks,_" Santo groaned. "It's like being at school all over again."

"I heard that," Logan said, from under the brim of his cowboy hat.

Laura entered the kitchen, where Julian was sitting alone, his head in his hands.

"Don't want to talk, Laura," he said without looking up.

"I did not say anything," she replied.

"I want to be alone."

Laura was silent. She remained.

A few moments later, he looked up. "Do you ever think about…what you've done? What you're responsible for?"

"Every day," Laura said quietly.

Silence.

"Okay," he said.

Laura nodded, then reached out and put her hand on his shoulder in silent understanding. He was grieving; not for Kimura, but for the loss of being innocent, of being free of lives he had taken.

She'd done this herself, the first night after killing the Senator and his children. Her claws had found her skin, and she'd felt it to be a kind of soothing, repetitive motion that seemed to ease her new burdens.

"I just couldn't watch her…cut you apart," he said, sounding miserable.

Laura laid her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she said.

Silence.

**_THE END...watch for SAVE YOUR BREATH III!_**


End file.
